Finesse
by Feffervesce
Summary: Follows Reawakening. Two unlikely characters cross paths: one of them a carefree, mischievous young man, and the other a hardened, dark occultist, somehow clicking in their own way, inadvertently forever changing each other's lives. Dragged into a world of lies, manipulation, piracy and potato-peeling, Julian Silverpaw and his newfound companions still make the best of it all.
1. Inheritance

**This is set approximately 3 months after the 43rd chapter of _Reawakening._ If that's not weird and specific, I don't know what is.**

**To those who haven't ready my other stories, this one is set 100 years in the future of WoW, and many things are different, such as Horde/Alliance squabbles are all but over, and it's somewhat peaceful between factions. To an extent, people from any race can travel anywhere, at least with the right parameters.  
**

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"Let me get this straight," the human mumbled as he drummed two fingers on the edge of his windowsill, staring out into the city's stone streets one story below. A few slow seconds ticked by, and he turned his gaze back to the tall, swarthy half-elf standing in his kitchen. "My siblings and I don't see you for...how long has it been? Six years? Seven?" He removed his hand from the sill. "And the first thing you request upon your return is...money?"

Levianath took a step forward in response to the question, an impish edge to his demeanor, and he held out his hands to his sides.

"Ah, Jonas, I am hurt you hold me in such poor regard," the half-elf clicked his tongue. His green eyes flashed. "Money's not the only thing I'm after, big brother."

Jonas stiffened. "You're no brother of mine, Levianath."

"No? We share a mother, do we not?"

"You never knew her," the human spat back, now quite hostile. "Leave my kitchen, and take your damned demon with you."

Levianath stole a glance down at Pip'tai, his imp who was standing near his ankle, currently fixated on a knot in the floorboards. Still holding a curled smirk at one corner of his thin lips, the man glanced up and let his dark-yet-glowing eyes flick about the room.

"This is a nice kitchen. You seem to be doing quite well for yourself, brother. I'm curious; how did you come into this wealth? Did you get all of this from our grandmother?"

The sable-haired human inflated again, looking about to explode now as his ears began to redden. "Get out," he pointed a long finger at the door, which Levianath had left wide open.

The Warlock didn't move. "Now, I feel we started off on the wrong foot here," he said calmly, keeping his smirk, and he stepped forward again. "All I want to know is where you're getting all the money. I feel like it's only fair I inherit my share of whatever it is my siblings receive."

"Like I said," Jonas stumbled over those words as Levianath took another step forward, but he did hold his ground. "You're no sibling of mine or theirs. You get nothing."

Levianath came to a slow stop in front of his older brother, peering down at the human with a pert stare. "Just think of what our mother would say if she saw you now."

The human simply glared, unable to generate words through his irritation. He visibly cringed when Levianath reached two fingers out and gathered a stray hair off of Jonas's shoulder, picking it up between his thumb and index and inspecting it, before setting it free in a wayward descent toward the floor.

"I've already spoken to our sisters," Levianath hummed, folding his hands together behind his back and turning on his heel, walking a small circle around the human. Once he'd gone halfway, he stopped, squinting a moment. "They both said to come to you. Mentioned something about an inheritance. And, well, you're the oldest, so I suspected you'd have what I'm looking for."

"You deserve absolutely none of it," Jonas snapped.

Levianath brightened. "Aha! So there _is_ an inheritance! Good to know!" He walked back around to face his half-brother, leaning in close. "Now, if you'll just tell me where I can find it, I'll be out of your hair. Which you're losing by the way. Age does not become you, Jonas."

Jonas, fuming, glared ahead. "It's not even here. We haven't gotten all of it yet."

"So you're telling me our sweet, dear old grandmother still has it?" Levianath smirked. "And here I momentarily deemed you a worthy crook."

"I'm not a crook."

"But you're stealing her money, yes? Does this not make you one?"

Jonas stiffened. "Who told you we were stealing it?"

"No one had to tell me; it was obvious. Grandmother hasn't yet croaked, and I know how impatient you are."

Laughing to himself at the flustered expression on his half-brother's face, the Warlock sauntered back to the other side of the kitchen, nearing the archway that led through a short hall to the still-open door. He paused in it, turning back around.

"I do hope you lead a fulfilling life, _brother._ As short as I pray it may be."

With that he turned and left, beckoning Pip'tai to follow after him.

* * *

Levianath walked through the Stormwind streets toward the city gates, drawing his dark hood over his ink-black hair to shield from rain that had begun to fall in the past few minutes. His eyes shimmered a fel green, their light shining out into the rain, and his boots hit the stone beneath them in sharp beats as he kept his pace reasonably fast. He didn't care about rain; it didn't bother him in the slightest. But he did care about taking what he deserved, and that's what he was going to do.

After walking through the slowly-darkening Elwynn forests, he reached his grandmother's place shortly, and discreetly let himself in a side door, dismissing his demon for the time being. The woman had no idea her grandson had taken up Warlock practices, and he highly doubted she'd give him the time of day if she knew.

She was a pleasant lady though, if a bit dense, and years earlier, the last time he'd seen her, he'd sworn she was days from her death bed. But apparently she was still kicking, which he had to admit he admired. No one really wants to die, and those who fight against it as hard as his grandmother, well, they earned his respect.

Or, at least, as much respect as he could muster, which honestly wasn't all that much.

Every room was lit with at least one lamp or crystal as he walked through a long corridor, peeking into each one as he passed them. He found her sitting in an open porch-like sunroom at the far end of the house, a book resting in her lap and steaming tea on the table beside her, of which he could smell the herbal brew with his sharp nose.

He stopped in the doorway, raising one closed fist up to the frame and knocking twice. Her head turned to him, and as her aged eyes fell on him, he saw a bright smile cover her face.

"My grandson!" she exclaimed, easily standing from her chair and shuffling over to him, slightly hunched with her age, and without question she drew him into her short arms. "Shame on you for not visiting me sooner!"

He was surprised she even recognized him. Last he'd seen her, he was just under eighteen years old. Six years gone by, and he'd transformed into an entirely different man. He shrugged as she pulled away.

"I've been busy. You know, with all the endless working and the traveling. Years fly by with hard work." He didn't work, nor did he really travel like he claimed, but she didn't know that.

She clicked her tongue. "Oh, if only your brothers were more like you," she shook her head, slowly shuffling back over to her seat. "You work so hard."

He nodded emphatically, and then sat down across from her on an old, floral sofa. "Grandmother, I have something to tell you," he said in a wary tone.

"Please, speak louder," she coaxed.

He cleared his throat. "About my siblings… I encountered them today. I overheard some of them talking…" he paused for effect, and leaned in, lowering his voice but still keeping it loud enough for her to hear. "I think they plan to steal their inheritance from you."

"Stealing?" she burst, and her brows lifted. "From me? Why?"

"Why does anyone steal?" he retorted.

A moment passed, and then she just laughed. "They can try, but they won't find it."

Levianath had heard of this before, her secret supply of money. He knew she was a wealthy woman; one look at her estate and it was obvious. But neither he nor his siblings had ever found out where she kept it.

"Why not?" he pressed.

"It's in the one place none of them would look!" she exclaimed, taking a sip of her tea. "It's under my porch. It's been there for years and years, untouched."

Jackpot. Levianath was beyond shocked he'd gotten it out of her so easily.

He smiled, though it wasn't genuinely directed toward her. "You're right, that is a good spot. They won't find it there."

"They might," she waved a finger. "You know them, the stubborn lot. To be safe, child, I'll ask for your help. Not only can't I lift the stones of the porch, but I can't make the trip to the bank. Would you deposit it for me?"

"How secure of a deposit would you like?" Levianath asked, humoring her now. He had it. He had all of it. She'd just entrusted him with literally all of the money, and he had no idea why. Maybe her old age was taking her sanity.

"Oh, simple is fine. No blood spells, not at my age. I need all the strength I can keep."

"Anything for you, Grandmother," Levianath bowed his head, offering a charming smile.

She reached out and patted his cheek with one withered hand. "I'm so proud of you, my little elfling grandson. You're so different from the others. You're a good boy."

He smiled again, the gesture believable but thin. "I am glad I warned you."

The woman laughed. "I'll be pushing daisies in a year, for goodness' sake, and they'll inherit all of it, plus this estate. How selfish they must be."

"They are so selfish," Levianath said somberly.

She nodded, and he stood back up.

"Well, it's getting late; I haven't the time to stay, but I will take care of your money," he stated, stretching his arms out to the sides. "I will bring you the papers within the week."

She nodded again, smiling at him. "Thank you, dear."

He bid her farewell, leaving her in her sunroom and walking back through to the opposite end of the house and out the door. Off to the side, he saw the porch she was talking about, and he approached it silently. It was made of large, thin slabs of stone stacked upon bricks, and with some difficulty, he finally managed to find one that was slightly loose by stepping around on each one.

He peered in the only window that could pose a hazard, and he saw the coast was clear. It was getting dark out anyways, so no one would see him.

His fingers curled down around the thick, loose slab. He pulled it up hard, shifting it over, and it made a scraping noise as it slid against the other slabs. Underneath it was an open space. He peered down into it.

A legitimate smile slid over his lips, and his eyes flashed as he reached in and grabbed the large, stiffly-woven sack that easily weighed thirty pounds, slugging it up out of the hole. It made a jangling sound, the coins in the bag shifting, music to his ears, and he hoisted it to the side, letting it slump onto the ground beside him. He slid the slab back into place, and dusted everything off to erase signs of his presence.

He threw the bag of coins over one shoulder, holding the cinch in one hand as he took off back into the city to the bank.

He'd just come into a hefty sum of money, and he needed to secure it for himself.

* * *

**So, our next chapter reintroduces a lovable character from _Reawakening_. Stay tuned. :)**


	2. Sibling Rivalry

**Okay so wanna know something fun? The plot of this story and Levianath's character idea both popped into my head while I was listening to _Love Runs Out_ by One Republic for the first time. I have no idea why, because they're really not related at all. But now when it comes on the radio, I think about this story. xD**

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**Review Responses:**

**Willowstar: Hahah, if it makes you feel any better I'd _just_ started this one. xD**

**Suneeku: Oh yeah, she's like... super dumb. Senile old bat. And I'm planning on making this one like half the length, hopefully. As long as I can learn how to condense my writing. If that's too ambitious, I can at least say in all honesty that it'll be shorter than Reawakening.**

**NyteKnight: Oh yes, he's a looker for sure. All sinister and smile-y. *grins***

**CherryMountain: Magically delicious! Haha yess! And hi OnyxRing! :)**

**The Corrupted Typer: Hey! :D Glad you like it and yes Julian's definitely going to be awesome.**

**Kintaraheart: Julian and Levianath are going to kick so much butt! GON' BE FUN. :D**

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**Anywho, enjoy!**

* * *

The streets were beginning to clear out now as Levianath stepped out of the bank and into the Dwarven District. He stuffed his bank receipt into his backpack, folding it into one of the small pockets, and took a deep, free breath.

The money was now secured, and already Levianath felt freer than he had in ages. He could do whatever he wanted, go wherever he wanted. He felt confident. Now that he could buy nice clothes and present himself as a respectable individual, people wouldn't view him like vermin. This was the best he'd felt in, well, ever.

The sun had already set halfway past the horizon, and the sky was painted a dusky pink, as well as the rooftops. The air was chilly now after the rain had passed an hour earlier, and the rejuvenating scent of petrichor clung to every stone in the city.

He had a coin purse brimming with gold, and as he came to stop at the end of the wide stairs in front of the bank, he took in a deep breath. A smile tugged at his lips, and he beckoned Pip'tai to follow at his heel as he started off into the street. He had so many options of what he could do now. He didn't even know where to start. He could go off and travel, or maybe buy a place of his own, or…

He passed by a fruit and cheese vendor and paused.

Or he could eat, first things first. The vendor appeared to be closing up shop, and Levianath approached quickly.

"You still selling?" he coaxed, and the vendor shook his head as he snapped the cart shut and released the wheel brakes.

"Closed today, elf. You want food, check that tavern across the street."

Levianath grimaced. Tavern food was nothing compared to fresh fruits, plus he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with the type that taverns tended to attract. At least not tonight, not when his spirits were high. Something about bars always had him either ending up in an unwinnable, outmatched fight, or black-out drunk, or gambling all of his money away. If he was unlucky, it was all three at once.

The vendor caught Levianath's look and shrugged, then pointed off toward the large archway leading out of the district and into a wooded north.

"If you're set on fruit, I get half my wares from the orchard there. The food is always of pristine quality. It's run by elves; they're up all hours. I'm sure they'll sell to you, if you're desperate."

Levianath cocked one brow, glancing off toward the orchard. He knew of the place. Everyone knew of the Silverpaw orchard. The orchard where the high-and-mighty, flower-happy Druids all lived in 'perfect harmony' and all that night elf idiocy. He didn't know any of the people there, but already he'd made his judgment. The people were probably just as stuck up and shitty as everyone else in the world. If they were night elves, they'd probably take one look at him and snub him, as all elves did. Being the offspring of a human and a blood elf is not something to be proud of, especially not around those elves.

He'd heard that the tribe did accept all races and backgrounds, but he'd determined that was a load of bull. What kind of society accepts _anyone_?

He simply shrugged. Whatever. He had money, and he could do what he wanted, within reason. If he wanted fruit, he could go get fruit. Why should he let his long-ingrained lack of confidence in others deter him from taking what he wanted, especially if it was something so minuscule as wanting fruit?

He dismissed Pip'tai again, at the demon's muttering, cursing acquiescence. The people at the orchard were Druids, and he knew they didn't appreciate the fel arts, just as he didn't appreciate Druidic ones. He walked down a long stretching slope toward the orchard. He saw only one direct entrance, lit by cool lanterns, a path beneath the dense trees. When he reached it, he peered off down the path and then set off along its winding slopes. Both sides were lit up by radiant plants and lanterns, and colorful moths fluttered about the lights. Despite himself, he was enjoying it more than he should've been, but he chocked that up to his sudden boost in finances.

There was no one around, but this was on the contrary a pleasant turn of events. He hadn't felt so greatly at peace since roughly five years ago, when he'd been with what's-her-face, his ex-wife, a blonde-haired, petite beauty named Gwynne. There'd been a scenic period of absolute peace with her, a good year of hard work and feeling like he belonged. But that'd been short-lived.

_She's not your wife anymore_, he reminded himself bitterly. _And good riddance._

He thought about when the femme fatale kicked him out just as soon as the two were finally in a comfortable setting. He'd built her a _house_, for goodness' sake, and worked his ass off to support the two of them. During that time though, he'd been happy. An eighteen-year-old man with a wife and a house, seemingly in an environment that he was safe in, an environment in which he didn't feel hated by the people who lived with him. It'd been the first time he felt in charge of his own life and didn't feel repressed by his hateful older siblings or his apathetic grandmother. Levianath had worked countless hours to pay off Gwynne's debts to her profession instructors, and in return, once she'd gotten her training and would have a steady income, they'd switch turns, and he'd go out and train in his own profession while she supported _him_.

But then as soon as she finished her apprenticeship, as soon as she started getting paid herself and didn't need his help, she all but literally kicked him out the door. And don't even get him started on the fact that within the week she had another man moved into the house he had built for her.

What a girl, huh? He supposed it was he the fool for marrying so early and falling so easily for her.

Levianath shook his head with a wry smirk. He'd changed a lot since then. He'd become a lot tougher, hardened, and his level of trust in others was so low it hit the negatives on the scales. It was safer this way.

Plus, on the bright side, in his wandering the past few years, he'd discovered fel magic, his new favorite pastime. He'd dabbled with it for a time, and although he hadn't had true Warlock training, he'd developed the skills and powers on his own. He'd made pacts with demons and even trained himself to summon a contracted imp, his companion demon, Pip'tai. Pip'tai had taught him a lot, and although the two had an odd relationship, one somewhere between hatred and grudging tolerance, Levianath did feel a fondess for the creature. He was, in a weird, fucked up way, Levianath's only friend.

And the only friend he wanted, too, for that matter.

Levianath smirked as he kept along the path, laughing to himself on his thoughts. He came upon one of the most massive, looming trees he'd ever seen in his life, and he halted, craning his head up to try to catch the top of it, but as hard as he tried, he couldn't. Its branches were dense, and he could see windows and balconies dotting up its sides.

A woman's voice made him pause.

"Can I help you?"

He glanced over in her direction. Her voice was cheerful, and he was shocked to see she was a blood elf. Or, at least, he was pretty sure she was one, but her eyes were different somehow. Not quite the fel green. More of a golden-silver color, akin to the highborne. She had sleek red hair pulled back in a long braid, and an intense, vertical scar down the left side of her face.

Levianath straightened up, giving her a peculiar look, but cleared his throat.

"I um," he stuttered, at a loss for words, though he wasn't sure why. He cleared his throat again. "Yes, actually. I'm here for fruit."

Her brows lifted. "Fruit?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I have money. I heard you sell to vendors."

She looked like she was trying to quell a laugh, and she just nodded. "I wouldn't peg you for a vendor. A little late for transactions wouldn't you say?" She shrugged. "Alright, well," she pointed down another path. "That pathway leads to our storage shelters. We have burlap sacks for buying in bulk. We've only got winter stock right now, no summer fruits. Get what you want and then return back to this tree here. Ask anyone around for me. I'll be closeby, and we can figure out a price. Sound good?"

He eyed her sideways. "How can I ask for you if I don't know your name?"

"Norivana," she replied simply. She cocked her head at him. "And you are?"

"Just here to buy fruit," he said after a second of hesitation. She sent him a hesitant nod, and with that he then turned on his heels and started down the path.

He reached the storage bins. No one was around, and he pursed his lips as he inspected the door. It was padlocked, something he doubted that woman, Norivana, had foreseen. Or maybe she'd forgotten about it.

No matter, though. He wouldn't be deterred by a dinky lock and didn't feel like walking all the way back for help. He'd mastered lockpicking long ago, as well as a trick of his own that helped in a pinch.

He reached down and wrapped his hand around the padlock, drawing his fingers tightly into a fist. He began muttering under his breath, a mixture of binding spells and self-developed curses, until he felt his arm suddenly infuse with the strength of a demon he'd summoned at his will. He could feel the hatred seething off of the creature as he controlled it, and he felt his lips curl in a dark smile.

"Break it," he ordered, and the demon let out a furious, spiteful string of demonic malediction as it began to tighten its fist around the lock, obviously incensed at being summoned for such a menial task.

A few seconds later, the lock snapped, and Levianath released his hold on the demon, who immediately vanished in a flurry of angry, personal slights.

He made to open the door, but before he could even pull the latch, he felt two large hands clap on his shoulders, and he startled, whipping around. Two men, both of whom couldn't be older than Levianath himself, were glaring at him, and he swallowed, squaring his shoulders. Why were these Druids so big?

One of them, a man with navy hair, sounded accusing.

"You robbing us?" the guy demanded.

Levianath scoffed sarcastically. "Of fruit? Who steals fruit?"

"It's not the first time it's happened before," the kid retorted. He jerked his head to the side. "How about you just take off, bud? We don't want trouble."

"No, _bud_, I'd like to get my fruit," Levianath replied, still toying. He _could_ tell them he was actually buying it, but where would be the fun in that?

"Come on," the guy coaxed in a calm tone, reaching out again to take Levianath's arm, but Levianath recoiled.

"Keep your hands off, Druid," he warned. "I don't like to be touched when I'm hungry." He wasn't sure why he was being so touchy, but the Druid was annoying him.

This made the other guy bristle. "You need to leave, kid."

"Aye, and I will," Levianath assured him, and his eyes flashed as he turned back toward the shed. "Just as soon as I've gotten my fruit."

The guy's hand looped out and grabbed Levianath's arm, and he let his breath out, tensing up. He felt his annoyance pique, and without further warning, he spun around and swung his tightened fist toward the Druid's face.

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

Undeterred by the cold, early spring air, Julian felt himself becoming more and more doused in sweat as he ran his nightly round through the forest, keeping his breathing hard and level and his stride strong. His mentor and godfather, Glenn Verdell, had been helping train him to regain his physical strength, something he'd lost due to an unfortunate incident involving himself, an angry forest, and a ten-month coma. Julian had lost nearly a full year of his life, and the past near-year of recovery had been tough to regain it all. One of the only things he felt he had control of was himself, and so that's what he focused on.

He'd done surprisingly well thus far on gaining his weight and muscle back to his former self. It required a lot of eating, a lot of exercise, and then more eating. Not to mention, eating. He was to the point now where he was actually bigger now than he was when he'd fallen into a coma, which he took as a major triumph. Of course, a lot of that had to do with him having grown a lot, too, but he liked to think he was making a difference as well.

He continued to dash through the trees at a good, fast pace. He was going on his third consecutive mile now without stopping, and he was pretty sure he could go ten more if absolutely necessary. Elves were built as runners, and he had great lung capacity. The exercise hurt, but it was a good pain.

He rounded a subtle bend in the path and saw something concerning by the food sheds, so he immediately slowed to a brisk jog, then stopped as he finally realized what was really going on.

Two of his friends, guys his age named Branneth and Ivin, were completely engaged in an all-out brawl against another elf Julian didn't know. At the sight, Julian was both worried and entertained.

"Hey!" he shouted, though he continued to laugh nervously as he ran over to them. "What the hell is going on, guys?"

His voice caused enough of a distraction that the two guys' target, the unknown elf, paused, and Branneth took advantage of the split-second by looping his arm around the elf's neck and catching him in a choke hold.

"Brann, what's going on?" Julian demanded, still panting from his run, and he braced his hands on his hips as he took deep breaths.

Branneth grimaced, trying to hold onto the guy tighter as the elf continued to squirm and attack. Both Branneth and Ivin had bloody lips and noses, and Brann especially had a growing black eye.

"We caught him stealing," he replied.

Julian frowned. "Stealing..." he glanced around Branneth, then quirked a brow. "Fruit?"

Branneth nodded, and Ivin piped up.

"If it makes a difference, he hit first."

"Let him go," Julian said simply.

Brann didn't budge. "He tried to steal, Julian, I don-"

Julian cut him off. He knew Brann was the type to start a brawl over something trivial like this. "Branneth. Release him. I don't think we'll fall apart if we're missing a few pieces of fruit," he laughed.

Brann grumbled, but thankfully after a few seconds, let his arm slacken. The black-haired blood elf immediately jerked free, sucking in a breath of fresh air and turning on Brann, fists rising offensively.

"Hey!" Julian barked at the blood elf, who at the exclamation, paused his attack. He turned his head back toward Julian, and Julian frowned at the look on the man's face: a hint of spite, sarcasm, and above all, suspicion.

Julian looked at Brann and Ivin. "Go on ahead, you two. I'll take it from here."

Ivin looked about to retort, but Julian shook his head at him to interrupt.

"Really. Go." He waved a hand toward the main tree.

Brann and Ivin took off in painful limps toward the tree, and Julian regarded the unfamiliar elf with a hidden smile. The man was wearing old, dark clothing and looked pretty worn. Julian wouldn't be surprised if he were homeless. He had a gauntness to his face, and Julian couldn't decide whether it was due to the fel energy that permeated from him and burned in his eyes, or malnutrition. The guy _was_ addicted to the energy though, that part was obvious, and he'd clearly seen the rougher sides of life.

"So..." Julian lifted a brow, respecting the guy's distance. "Hungry?"

The man lifted his chin, eyeing Julian sideways, and straightened up, rolling his shoulders back and smoothing his rumpled shirt.

"Well, I'd...like a piece of fruit."

Smirking, Julian nodded his head toward the shed. "Go on, then. Take what you need."

The man looked skeptical and smirked back. "You know, I'm not actually stealing. I do have money," he said, and Julian saw him lift up a small satchel from his belt and shake it once. It jingled with the musical sound of coins.

"For a few pieces of fruit?" Julian laughed. "We've got more than we need. Don't worry about it." He pushed past the blood elf and opened the door wide, and it creaked in the process. He peered inside, reaching in and grabbing a small crate by its handle and pulling it out. It held about fifteen snow plums, one of his favorite snacks.

He held the crate out to the battered elf. "Here."

The elf appeared hesitant, but he did finally take one of them into his hand. "Snow plum?"

"Yeah, you like 'em?"

"Never had one."

Julian smiled. "Today's your lucky day." He closed the door, keeping the crate in his arm, and reached for the padlock, but realized it'd been broken. Not only broken, but completely crunched. "Whoa," he smirked. "You've got some strength on you." He took a mental note of the fact that a guy who wanted to pay for his meal was probably not the type to break in to get it.

The elf still hadn't taken a bite, and he too looked down at the padlock. Julian swore he saw a streak of dark humor flit across the elf's face before it was replaced by a simple look and a shrug.

Julian shrugged too. "Ehh. It was a shit padlock. Been needing to replace it anyway." He reached into the crate and grabbed a plum for himself, taking a giant bite. Some of the juice ran down his chin, and he wiped it with his sleeve.

Julian spoke through his mouthful, something his mother would scold him for if she saw him. "Best fruit you'll ever taste," he tried to sound coaxing, and he was pretty sure he'd succeeded.

The elf finally, falteringly took a small bite of the round fruit. Julian watched him with animated, raised brows and a grin.

"So?"

The elf, still not really smiling, at least returned with a shrug. "It's good."

Julian held out the crate. "I've got more. You can store it in your backpack if you want."

Now, the elf began to look extremely suspicious, and he eyed the fruit oddly. "Why are you just giving all of that away?"

Julian thought a moment. He was pretty sure that if he told the elf the truth, that he felt sorry for him, that the guy would turn down the offer. "I dunno," he finally shrugged. "It's my favorite fruit. I like when other people like what I like." He leaned in, speaking mischievously. "Plus, it's sort of a big 'fuck you' to the two guys who got on you for stealing earlier."

The elf's brows lifted as he stared at Julian with a mixed expression, and then finally for the first time, the man smiled fully, and took another bite. "Well in that case," he snickered. "I'll take the whole crate."

Julian smiled and handed it to the guy.

"So where you headed to?" Julian asked. "You've got the look of a traveler."

The man shrugged as he started to place the fruit into his bag. "No idea. Somewhere."

This all but confirmed Julian's suspicions that the guy had nowhere to call home. The guy clearly had _some_ money, whatever was in that coin satchel, but he began to think maybe the man had come about those coins by sketchy means.

He thought a moment. "How about you stay here just for a night before setting off in the morning? We've got a hell of a lot of extra rooms here, and it'd be no trouble. It's a lot better than rooming in the inns or taverns."

The guy immediately put up walls. "No," Julian saw the guy's shoulders tense. "I'd rather not."

"How come?"

"Too many...people."

Julian nodded, a little intrigued, and just laughed. "How many is too many?"

"Anybody more than just myself," the guy retorted.

Julian bit back another snicker and nodded. "Alright, can't argue with that."

The guy glanced to the side, looking like he was just about ready to leave, but Julian cleared his throat and spoke again.

"So what's your name?"

His fel green eyes flicked back to Julian, eyeing him for a couple seconds.

"Levianath," he finally said. "Levianath Darkrunner."

Julian smiled brightly. "Cool. I'm Julian Silverpaw."

He saw Levianath smirk sarcastically and glance to the side again, almost as if rolling his eyes. "Of course I'd meet a Silverpaw."

Julian, laughing, cocked his head. "You sure you don't want to just crash here tonight? I'm dead serious when I say we have extra space. Seriously. One night, and if you hate it that much, you can leave whenever you want."

The man sighed, glanced behind himself for good measure, and then gave Julian a direct look. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," Julian assured. "I just… I dunno, man. I don't like seeing people wander, I guess."

Levianath squinted his eyes skeptically, staring at Julian intensely, and Julian simply returned the look with a big, wide grin.

"C'mon!" the kid coaxed, and finally, hesitantly, Levianath gave in, falling into step. The two walked back to the tree, feeling triumphant, and Julian made sure Levianath was given one of the best spare rooms they had.

* * *

One of the first things Julian learned the next day was that Levianath Darkrunner was _not_ a morning person. Julian had been awake with the sun, ready to take on the day, but his new-found charity case didn't crawl out of his room until near noon, and even then, he still looked beyond exhausted, and any interaction Julian even tried to attempt on him fell short with nothing more than a scathing sneer.

However, Julian did also quickly learn that in order to remedy Levianath's porcupine-like 'morning' tendencies, all it required was one big cup full of black, fresh-brewed hot coffee. Not a lot of the tribesmembers drank coffee, but they did have it stocked, and Julian had retrieved it as a last resort.

With the coffee, Levianath was slowly waking up, and seemed legitimately grateful for the drink. Which, at that point, meant that he wasn't bristling and snapping rude remarks at everything Julian said.

Julian sat beside the groggy elf, hiding his smile.

"Did you even sleep?"

"I hadn't slept in days, and then I slept too much," Levianath retorted.

"Ouch," Julian groaned.

Levianath sniffed once. "Yeah."

Julian saw the blood elf's eyes scanning the area astutely, seeming intense, almost jumpy. Out of curiosity, Julian finally asked the question he'd been itching to ask.

"So...what's your story?" he wondered. "Where you from?"

"My story?" Levianath hummed distantly. "Let's see. How about we start at my roots. My human mom's been dead since I was born, human dad's in jail for killing said mom, never knew my real blood elf father. Yesterday was the first time I'd seen my grandmother in six years and it was the first time she'd shown any liking toward me. My siblings hate me, too, so yesterday I stole all of their inheritance money. I've got well over fifty thousand in the bank now. So easy to say I've had it pretty great."

Shocked, Julian almost snorted laughing, even though he felt terrible for it. "You're serious?" Out of courtesy, he tried desperately to sober up. "I mean, that's terrible about all of that, and such a shame about the…murder. And the whole issue with your siblings. That's terrible too. But are you _serious?!_"

Levianath had clearly not been expecting laughter, and he responded positively by laughing as well. "Dead serious. And I'm sure my siblings will be after me soon enough. I know they were planning on stealing the money anyways, but I got to it first."

"Wait, who was the inheritance from?" Julian asked humorously.

"My grandmother."

"You stole fifty thousand gold units from your _grandma?!"_

Levianath nodded calmly. "Yes."

Julian shook his head. "You're my hero, dude."

Levianath sent him a peculiar glance. "Yours is not the reaction I anticipated."

"I'm not one to judge," Julian shrugged his arms out, palms-up. "They all hate you? Screw 'em."

Levianath smiled, and that was the end of the conversation. They sat there with scarce conversation for a good hour before Levianath had finally received the full effects of his coffee, and he stood up.

"Thanks for the room," he said, and he hoisted his backpack up over his shoulders. "And the fruit."

Julian nodded. "Yeah... About that fruit. Last night, my mom, Norivana, had thought you were a vendor. That's why she was going to make you buy the food. Otherwise she'd have just given it away."

"Hm," was all Julian got in response, and then Levianath turned to leave.

Julian stood as well, taking the guy's side. "So where are you headed?" he asked curiously.

Levianath paused, taking a deep breath, and turned back to Julian. "Listen, kid, these questions are pointless," the man said patiently but quickly. "You've been great. Thanks for all the help, really. Never would've expected that from someone like you. But you've done all you can do, and I'm taking off. Never coming back. No use becoming friends if I'm leaving for good."

Julian took all this in with a frown, but he quickly recovered and nodded cheerfully. "Alright, man," he said genially, holding out his hand to shake. "It's been fun."

"Cheers," the swarthy elf took his hand, returning the shake.

Julian smiled brightly. "Good luck."

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

Levianath had intended to hop on the first ship west he could find, but something about his day caused him to end up in the Pig and Whistle tavern, where his sole goal was that of becoming black-out drunk. And needless to say, he was (give or take) three pints shy of reaching that objective. He'd been sitting at the bar nearly the entire evening, his attention falling exclusively upon his own thoughts as the people around him came and went, a few of them attempting small talk with him but ultimately failing when he refused to participate.

He reached a point where he needed to leave though, just when the bar was starting to fill with loud, drunk people who picked fights for no reason other than to feel validated or justified in their own contorted ways. He scooted his chair back, paid his tab, and left the inn promptly. He walked a ways off to the side and reached into his bag, retrieved a hand-rolled cigarette from his pack, ignited it with fel fire, and placed it between his lips. The smoke curled from his nose as he let his eyes fall shut and let his head lean back against the wall as well, listening to the peaceful silence of the nighttime city, save for the muffled shouts coming from the tavern.

Eventually his cigarette had reached its end, and he promptly snuffed it with his boot and began walking through Old Town, trying to decide where to go. He was intoxicated enough that his demeanor was scattered, but sober enough that he wasn't stumbling through the streets.

After only about thirty seconds' worth of wandering out into the street though, he braced one elbow against the stone wall of a long arch, taking a deep, full breath of the night air to clear his head. He'd done his share of sleeping in streets; he just had to find a discreet location where the guards wouldn't snuff him out at five in the morning. He didn't feel like sleeping in a tavern, and although he had money, he just didn't feel like going through all the trouble of using it yet.

He began to wander again, reaching yet another district to the north, one that smelled strongly of charcoal and dust and fire. During nights, the Dwarven District was shockingly clear of its well-known smoky air, as most smiths didn't prefer to work the forges past sunset. This made the district shockingly pleasant to pass through.

However, Levianath found himself stumbling upon yet another tavern. The sound, lights, and smell of food and alcohol gave it away, and as he reached it, he stopped there in the street when he saw a two people exiting, recognition and concern flashing over his face. It was one of his older human brothers, a colossal man named Malcolm, with a woman Levianath didn't know.

Malcolm didn't even notice Levianath standing there as he stumbled out of the door, and Levianath's brows tightened when he saw how Malcolm's hand was crushing the woman's forearm like a vice. The woman's cheeks were tear-streaked, and her braid was disheveled. Despite how little he wanted to admit it, the woman's appearance reminded him of his ex, and as much as he hated Gwynne, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy toward her doppelganger for such unnecessarily rude treatment.

Malcolm's voice was harsh and slurred. "What do you think I brought you here for in the first place?" he hissed.

"I-" the woman blubbered, "I don't know Malcolm, I thought-"

Malcolm audibly growled. "You thought that once we got here you could run off and throw your goods at every other piss-headed fool here?" He threw her arm back at her, causing her to stumble. Levianath sucked in a breath. If this were just any couple, he wouldn't feel so involved. But this was his half brother here being the alcoholic asshole he was, and Levianath began to bristle, taking a hesitant step forward. Malcolm was already a jerk without his drink, but with it? He was a monster.

The woman let out a sniffle. "No, Malcolm. I wasn't-"

"Shut your damn mouth when I'm speaking," Malcolm snapped, taking another step forward.

Her lips were quivering when she closed them, and Leivanath grimaced at the sight. It was almost too common a sight here: the rough preying on the weak. If the woman had been standing her ground, Levianath wouldn't have thought to get involved, but she seemed helpless.

Malcolm growled again. "We're going to go back in there, and you're going to shut your mouth and know your place," he snapped, and grabbed her arm.

"Malcolm, please, I don't wan-" she began to speak, but to Levianath's sudden fury, he saw the man swing his arm out and catch the woman's cheek with the back of his palm. She cried out and then clamped her hands over her mouth and face, biting back her cries.

Levianath let his anger ignite, feeling the glow of his eyes burn as he finally snapped.

"Now _that_ is no way to treat a person," Levianath announced from where he'd been standing, and advanced quickly toward his brother, who looked surprised and confused at Levianath's presence.

Malcolm stood to full height, peering down at his half-elf brother with pure contempt, but Levianath wasn't fazed. He glared at Malcolm darkly, drawing dark energy through his fingertips, and let it begin to engulf his hands and forearms with a shadowy flame that flickered in the green of the fel energy at his disposal. Years ago, Levianath would've been afraid of the man, afraid to stand up to him, but now, things were different. He wasn't the same scared, beaten child he used to be. He had power.

"Your little tricks have never scared me, kid," Malcolm spat a glob onto the street. "Piss off. This is none of your business."

"You lay your vile fingers on your friend again, it is." Levianath let his magic intensify and felt it giving off a peculiar, draining aura.

Malcolm cocked his head, sneering and speaking condescendingly. "Aw. You like her? You like the pretty girl? Why don't you marry her? We both know how well the last one turned out." Malcolm glanced at the woman and reached out, grabbing her chin with his large hands and squeezing her cheeks, wrenching her face toward Levianath. "See, she even sort of looks like your beloved Gwynne."

Levianath growled, his patience snapping entirely. He hadn't let his anger hit him like this in ages, and he was surprised at how easily it'd been triggered. Then again, he hadn't been around his siblings in a long time either, and he knew the two were related.

"Alright," he craned his neck to the side and felt a satisfying few crackles. "See that right there? That's your vile fingers. On her. Again. Now it's my business." His shadow bolts flared up into volatile, angry, churning orbs of pure, negative energy in his hands.

He saw Malcolm angrily suck in a short breath and start to advance, but the human didn't have more than half a second to react before Levianath threw two shadow bolts straight at him. Malcolm let go of the woman just as the magic caught him square in the nose, crackling outward and causing him to immediately stiffen. He began to stumble backward, careening dangerously far. Levianath was personally a bit surprised at how effective the minor bursts of magic were, but he chocked it up to Malcolm being so drunk that even something like a physical punch would probably knock him out for twelve straight hours.

So, that's what Levianath decided to do. He took swift, storming steps forward, cocked his fist, and threw it straight into disoriented Malcolm's jaw. Malcolm stumbled again, but Levianath caught him by the collar of his shirt with his left hand. He brought his face close, giving his now-terrified half-brother a dry grin.

"I hope this hurts you as much as it pleases me," he uttered through clenched teeth, and then connected his fist hard against Malcolm's nose.

Malcolm hit the ground with a heavy thud, and Levianath hissed inwardly at his knuckles, but otherwise felt more or less extremely satisfied. This was Malcolm, the creature who'd countless times beaten him to a pulp for no reason whatsoever. Malcolm, who was absolutely and down to definition a bully. This was the first time Levianath had ever really stood up to him, and he had to admit it was damn overdue.

As was expected, the woman didn't even take time to thank him; she just took off running. Levianath didn't blame her, and he hoped she'd stay away from Malcolm from now on, but his past experiences told him that she'd be back with Malcolm in no time.

Levianath peered down at the unconscious drunk at his feet and smirked to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets and deciding that it was definitely time for bed now. He'd had enough excitement.

Turns out he couldn't catch a break, though.

To the side, the tavern door opened, revealing a loud voice that made Levianath's blood run cold.

"Malcolm what's taking you so long?" Levianath's oldest brother Jonas stepped out of the building, followed by not one, not two, but three other men, along with two women. No one in that crowd looked like they belonged on the civilian side of things, rather some sort of violent gang. They were muscled, big, and somewhat rough-looking. How in the hell someone as simple as Jonas got involved with them, he had no clue.

Levianath swallowed, taking a few steps backward in attempts to possibly avoid notice, but one look from Jonas and he knew he'd made a mistake. Jonas glanced down at his unconscious brother, and then back up at Levianath, his eyes beginning to spark with anger.

"I've been looking for you," Jonas hissed, fingers curling at his sides as he stepped forward. His five friends followed behind him wordlessly.

"Have you?" Levianath lifted his brows. "I must say that's surprising, brother. You've never given a damn about me before."

"I know what you stole," Jonas continued, ignoring what he'd said. "And we want it back."

"Stole? I wouldn't go _that_ far," Levianath countered, smirking. "Think of it as…compensation! For having to grow up with you lot."

Jonas advanced another long step. "Where is the money?"

"I made sure to tuck it away somewhere safe so you'll never touch it."

"Where?" Jonas growled.

"I've secured it. Three different accounts, two separate banks. Locks are magic, bound by blood." Levianath grinned. "So, yes. You'll never touch it." He hesitated a second, and then lifted one brow. "But how in the world did you find out about this so quickly? Does this mean that you too were planning on stealing it?" He clicked his tongue scoldingly. "Bad Jonas."

The human looked too pissed to speak and took another step forward, and Levianath relinquished himself backward. He was outmatched; even his magic wouldn't do a thing, especially if someone here also possessed any abilities. Maybe he should've been working less to piss off his brother and more to find an escape route.

He glanced to the left and realized he'd worked himself into a dead end. He was cornered, to put it simply.

He spoke quickly, taking another step backward as Jonas advanced angrily. "Now, brother, I'd love to hang out here in this dark, creepy street with you and your…unique friends, but I just remembered I have a different, far less dire situation I need to be in. So if you'll excuse me," he inched sideways. "I'll be going, now."

"Not so fast," Jonas growled, throwing an arm out to grab the half-elf, but it was too late. Levianath bolted, sliding past the group just barely and taking off down the street at a dead sprint. The alcohol had mostly left his mind now, enough so that he was fully in control of his actions, and he used that control to run for his life. Appropriately, too, because he was certain that his brother, if he caught him, might just kill him this time.

A sharp, hot pain in his calf caused him to stumble and trip, and he fell forward onto his knees, palms skidding against the street. Immediately, as a last resort, he drew the shadow fire into his hands and turned, noting that the pain in his leg was due to a well-thrown knife, embedded into the muscle.

He gritted his teeth and shot the magic toward the group, which didn't do much as one of them managed to deflect it easily enough.

_Shit_.

He felt two pairs of hands grab his arms and lift him up, and he grunted at the pain in his leg when it shifted. It wasn't every day he felt like getting stabbed, and this was no different. Attacks came from both sides, and it wasn't long before he was pretty sure he had at least a bruised, possibly broken, rib, and what felt like a broken elbow and a dislocated finger or two from fighting back.

A now very angry Jonas wiped a sleeve over his face as he regarded his brother, and Levianath grimaced. This wasn't going to end well for him at all.

"You attacking my family? You stealing our stuff? That's enough for me to kill you," Jonas hissed.

"Do it, then," Levianath retorted. "Carry on your father's tradition of murdering your family. You're the oldest, so I'm sure you remember it best. What was it like watching your father slaughter your mother in cold blood?"

Jonas bristled, throwing a punch into Levianath's cheek, causing blood to spout from where his teeth hit the inside of his cheek. Levianath spat the blood at the ground, the side of his face spasming in pain.

Jonas drew closer. "He did it because of you. Because of what you are. You're a freak."

"Really?" Levianath barked the word sharply. "You're justifying the murder of your mother? You really are your father's son."

Another punch came, this time connecting into Levianath's gut, and he groaned, slumping forward as his stomach threatened to heave.

Jonas's voice was close, and seething. "I hate you."

Levianath couldn't help but smirk. "If I had a copper for every time you said th-"

His words were canceled with a fist, and then another right against his eye and cheekbone, causing his head to fall backward. He began to feel fuzzy, his mind blurring as pain blossomed in throbbing shoots through his face and head. His brother really was going to kill him, wasn't he?

In a sudden rush of panic, he began to fight against his captors, a life-preserving attempt at escape, but they gripped him fast and held him there. He yanked at his arms, glaring at Jonas with burning green eyes. Jonas, glaring back, took a single step backward and nodded at the people holding the half-elf. They threw him down onto the stone street floor, his head smacking hard as he hit the ground, and stars filled his vision. He felt a sharp kick land against his stomach, and he curled up in nauseous, throbbing pain, scrunching his eyes shut. His broken rib was killing him, and with the pain of the kick, it almost caused him to black out right there. Every part of him hurt, and as if that wasn't bad enough, he felt two more ruthless kicks to his stomach, rendering him entirely useless.

He heard one last hateful sentence from his brother before receiving from him a sharp, hard kick to the head that knocked him out cold.

"I sincerely hope you don't wake up from this."

* * *

**Ugh. Human half-brothers... Who needs 'em?**

**Lots more Julian interaction in the next chapter, and we'll also be jumping right into the adventure.**

**Stay tuned.**


	3. Did It Hurt?

**Short chapter update, but it's still a chapter! :) My updates will probably start getting about this short for a while, if I want to keep them regular. So glad I got to write this today. Yay for long weekends!**

**I might try to get Chance updated next, if I can. I've got half a chapter written for that, and if I can get the inspiration, I'll have it published soon.**

**I've also got the Lucian Origins story almost finished... Just have to write up a connecting scene and then that'll get published too. Slow and steady, eh?**

* * *

**Responses: NyteKnight: Yes! Nori cameo! :)**

**Kintaraheart: Mwahahha.. You should train Levianath, then. He'd appreciate it. :3**

**Willowstar: Yeah! Those silly elves. Shouldn't get so worked up about it huh? **

**The Corrupted Typer: Oh yeah.. Those brothers of his. And we haven't even met his sisters. :S**

**CherryMountain: No kidding!**

**Chelinka: Hey! I agree! Levianath _does_ need someone JUST like that! ;)**

* * *

Julian munched on an unripened, sour green apple as he strolled into the bottom floor of the Druids' massive tree, searching for something to do. That peculiar half-elf, Levianath, had left hours ago, and nighttime had now fallen, but Julian was still wide awake and bored out of his mind. He could be working on his engineering, or possibly studying up on his magic, but he didn't feel like doing any actual work.

When he entered the base floor, off to the side he caught a sight that put a smile on his face. It was his infant brother Finnian and his twin nephews, Lucian and Celwin, all three being babysat by his older sister Nyela and her close friend, Lily. Little Finnian and Lucian were both lying on their tummies on a wide blanket, curiously looking about and making odd sounds with their mouths, while baby Celwin (Julian was only now learning how to tell the twins apart) was trying his hardest to move about, though he hadn't gotten the hang of crawling yet. The babies had recently mastered the ability to lift their heads on their own, and even support themselves slightly on their arms in the 'pushup' position if they really tried.

Julian, grinning, approached the little group, sliding smoothly into the seat next to Lily. Although Nyela had Julian beaten by three years, Lily was only a year older than he was, and he liked to press that fact as much as possible. They really weren't that far apart.

He leaned close to her, close enough that he could catch the subtle scent of lavender, and flipped the shaggy crimson locks of his hair to the side with a toss of his head.

"Helloooo," he drew the word out longer than necessary, dipping the tone low and then back up. "How are you?" He sent her a sideways smirk.

She smiled back. "I'm fine!"

Julian always loved how cheerful she was.

"I didn't ask how you _looked_," Julian responded without missing a beat, and watched her sideways, his smirk widening to a full grin as her lips fought a smile and lost. He could tell she was trying not to laugh, which made it all the better.

"That was lame," she smiled, still not looking at him, and he laughed aloud.

"I doubt you could come up with a better one."

She finally peered over at him, giving him a single raised brow, her almond eyes flashing with humor when their eyes met. "Okay," she began, "how about this one: Did it hurt?"

He snorted. "Oh come on, everyone knows that one."

"Did it hurt?" she repeated.

He decided to play along, still not shifting his eyes as he held her under his teasing gaze. "Did what hurt?"

"When you crawled out of hell? Because damn, you're smoking!"

Julian's laughter echoed in the room, and Lily looked more than pleased. Nyela, who was sitting on the other side, just laughed and stood.

"That's it," she announced, rolling her eyes, but laughing. "What is it with you two and terrible pick-up lines?"

"They're an art form, Sis," Julian retorted, smiling at her innocently.

"Whatever. Time to feed and put the boys to bed," she laughed, and shooed her brother. "Go away, Julian. You're distracting my helper."

"Aw," Julian leaned in close to Lily, sending her a smug grin, his chin almost crossing over her shoulder. "I'm not distracting you, am I?"

The girl began to giggle, and she pushed his shoulder with one hand. "Julian, scram."

"Alright fine," he shrugged, and pointed over his shoulder toward the exit door. "Well, I'm going outside to make out. Want to join me?"

Lily at first didn't register, but then she burst into a fit of quiet laughter, shaking her head at him wordlessly and covering her face with her hands.

"Can I at least borrow a kiss, then?" he asked playfully. "I promise I'll give it back later."

"Julian!" The blue-haired beauty scolded in a laugh. "No, you don't get a kiss!"

He sent her the most saddened, melancholy puppy eyes he could muster, slumping his shoulders for effect, but she just shook her head at him. He frowned for a second, and then his eyes lit up as he got an idea.

"What about on the cheek?" he pressed, tapping the side of his face and scooting a little closer to her on the bench. "Just a little one?"

"You promise you're not going to trick me and turn your face last-second?" Lily laughed. Julian could tell she was humoring him, but he didn't care. This was entertaining, she was a cute girl, and he was no longer bored.

"Pinky promise," he held up his hand, offering his little finger out, and she gave him a look.

"What are we, six?"

He just wagged the finger at her, and she sighed and finally held out her pinky, making to lock hers with his. The instant before she did though, he switched to his index finger, linking it around her pinky and tugging her toward him. He craned in, the action so fluid that before Lily could even hope for a chance to react, he'd already stolen a _real _kiss and then immediately hopped out of his seat, cheering loudly in triumphant laughter as he ran out of the tree. Lily's shout was laced in both outrage and hilarity as he fled.

"JULIAN!"

* * *

Julian was still smiling as he walked along the edge of the forest, near a pool that jutted out of the tree wall and into the slope between the forest and the Stormwind walls. Lily was a cute girl. Way too cute to ever actually be with someone like him, in his opinion, but he still loved how she fed into his joking advances. He hadn't expected his prank to go as well as it had, and to be honest felt pretty proud of himself.

He took a rock from beside his boots and skipped it across the smooth pool surface, chucking it hard enough that it made it nearly across the entire pool, skipping nearly ten times before coming to a premature stop and sinking.

He laughed to himself out loud, unable to wipe the smile from his face, when he thought about Lily's line. He'd heard the 'heaven' version, but never that one. He had to admit, he liked it better. Maybe just because it came from Lily.

The forest was quiet around him, and although he preferred company of other people, he was enjoying this small moment of solitude.

As he skipped another stone, something caught his attention to the left, a subtle greenish glow that began to light up everything around him. The trees, the ripples on the water, and his clothes, all shimmered with the green, and Julian felt an odd shiver run down his spine. If he didn't know better, he swore he felt a trickle of fear hit the back of his mind and latch on.

He turned slowly and stared at the source of the light, only to see something even more alarming. He'd only ever seen one accompanied by a Warlock, but this one was alone: an imp minion.

Julian stumbled backward, swallowing hard and attempting not to draw the demon's attention, but the demon was occupied with something else. Julian watched for a moment, attempting to understand what it was doing. It hopped about in a methodical pattern, seeming to draw odd symbols into the earth that glowed as he finished each one, until finally, it appeared it'd created some sort of glowing circle on the ground, with demonic markings that glowed brightly with the dark energy.

"Waste of blasted time," the creature uttered in broken common, growling, and with that, hopped into the circle, and with a flash, was gone.

The circle remained, and Julian stared at it in confusion, eyes wide and fear still coursing through him. It was almost as if the green aura itself gave off the fear, rather than it originating in his own mind, and so he stepped back farther, realizing that the more he distanced himself from it, the better he felt. Not more than a couple seconds later, he saw it begin to surge brighter, and he froze again.

Another flash came, and suddenly Julian saw two figures slumped there on the demonic circle. He knew one was the imp minion, as it had fel fire burning from it which made it recognizable. But the other figure he couldn't see clearly, but he saw that it was a person, lying down in a broken position.

Julian flinched sharply as the imp turned directly toward him, making eye contact.

"You," the imp ordered bluntly, his voice high-pitched, almost gravelly. "C'mere."

Julian swallowed, and pointed to himself. "Me?"

"No, that tree beside you," the imp grumbled. "Yes, you, dipshit. Help me out with this. He's heavy an' I can't carry him."

"Wh-what happened?" Julian asked as he stumbled forward. He couldn't believe he was sitting here speaking to a demon, of all creatures he could've encountered here. He neared the imp, peering past it, and then with a surge of shock recognized the person lying there on the circle. It was the half-elf he'd just met, but he looked completely different. Levianath had bruises on his face to the point of where one eye was beginning to swell shut, his arm was resting at an angle that made Julian cringe, and from his nose and mouth came trickles of blood that dripped down his face.

"What happened to him?" Julian repeated, immediately ignoring the surprise at the demon and focusing on Levianath, dropping down beside him and trying to decide the best route to go as far as healing.

"Dunno, I wasn't there," the creature retorted. "But I'm bound to his magic, and I ain't worth a single soul if he dies. So fix him."

"I can try..." Julian said, willing his hands to quit shaking. He hadn't gone through his Emerald Dream training yet and only knew basics of the Druidic practices, but he knew some healing, as much as Glenn had taught him. Levianath was unconscious, so Julian used that to his advantage, and the first thing he tended to was the man's arm and fingers, setting them back where they belonged, but he didn't heal them. He didn't want to do it wrong and leave the guy with a crippled limb.

He did manage to heal the cuts and bruises on Levianath's face, as well as some external injuries that were minor enough, and then he stood, resting his hands on his hips. Levianath still hadn't woken up, which meant he'd most likely taken some hard trauma to his head. Julian knew there was one man in this tribe who could assuredly help: his own father.

"I'm taking him to my father. He can heal the injuries better than I," Julian announced, kneeling back down and lifting the man up with a little difficulty. Levianath wasn't heavy, but he was tall, and hard to maneuver as far as being tender with the injuries he still had. Levianath's head lolled backward toward the ground over the edge of Julian's arm, his mouth parting open in his unconscious state and onyx hair drooping.

The imp nodded. "I can't go into that orchard there, so I'm leaving him in your hands. Literally. Don't get him dead."

"I won't," Julian replied quickly, and without further question, he took off back toward the tree.


	4. Duped

**Alright! This chapter is our 'launcher' chapter. That'll make more sense when you reach the end. Maybe.**

**Responses:**

**Cherry Mountain: We'll see a lot more of him! :)**

**Psalty: Julian does, too. ;D**

**LadyRaftina: Oh, man! Yes! That's definitely a Julian thing. We'll see something like that in the next chapter, as long as it ends up as planned. :)**

**Suneeku: I know I already PM'd you but Julian has bright red hair, is almost as tall as Lucian (so far) and golden puppy-like eyes. :P**

**NyteKnight: Daddy Silverpaw is on the fence. Sarion, on the other hand... xD And GoT and yarn-spinning sounds so nice right now... Lol.**

* * *

Julian's snow-haired father, Lucian, was quickly found in the base floor with a few other guys, including Julian's mentor Glenn, and his big sister's sable-haired boyfriend, Sarion Dawnstar. Those three men tended to spend a lot of their free time (as scarce as it was now with the family additions) together.

His dad didn't ask many questions; years of emergency situations had brought him to the point of where his first reaction was to take the unconscious, bleeding man from Julian's arms and place him on a nearby table, administering immediate aid. As Lucian spent powerful, beneficial surges of healing energy into Levianath's temples, the others crowded around. Sarion was the first to speak up.

"Who is he?" he asked, his voice guarded. "I could catch the fel energy reeking from him even before you brought him in."

Lucian butted in before Julian could respond to the dark-haired man. "What happened to him?"

"I don't know," Julian replied, and he meant to say more, but Lucian spoke again.

"Where did you find him?"

"Edge of the orchard. His demon placed him in my care."

He heard Sarion nearby audibly hiss. "Demon? You encountered a demon?"

"An imp minion. Nothing dangerous," Julian shook his head. "He had good intentions. Just wanted me to help his master."

"Good intentions?" Sarion barked incredulously. "From a demon? Are you joking?"

"Do you know this man?" Lucian demanded, interrupting Sarion's scolding.

"Yes, I met him yesterday," Julian replied. "He was fine this morning, too. I don't know what happened to him. He was planning on leaving the continent, as far as I understood."

"You mean he stayed _here, _overnight?" Sarion cut in again, obviously upset. "You let a Warlock into our home?"

"He's a good guy, Sarion," Julian reasoned. "Misunderstood, maybe a bit cynical, but he's not a bad person just because of the magic he practices."

"Right. You could make the same argument about a murderer. Fel energy offers nothing but danger and tragedy, and those who dabble with it are doomed from the second they allow it into their practices," Sarion retorted. "Of all people, I should know. You should not have brought him here, especially not after knowing him for only a day. Not around our children."

Julian sighed, but didn't argue further. He knew Sarion more than anyone had reason to be upset about it, and Lucian seemed to be agreeing, though his focus was kept on healing Levianath.

"Who is he?" Glenn asked, speaking for the first time.

"His name is Levianath. I don't remember his surname," Julian replied.

Finally, Lucian finished his attempts and took a step away from the table, inspecting the unconscious man.

"The state of his clothing is pitiful," Lucian murmured. "Julian, was this man homeless?"

"I think so. That's why I had him stay here a night." He frowned. "He did have a backpack and a coin satchel on him, but I'm guessing whoever did this to him took his stuff. I wouldn't be surprised if that's all he owned. He told me he has money in a bank, but he sure doesn't look it."

Sarion stepped in. He wasn't being rude, so much as just incredibly firm. "Letting him stay here was a poor choice of action. You need to get this Warlock and his magic out of here."

Lucian finally placed a gentle, wide palm against Sarion's chest as a warning, and leaned in and murmured something Julian didn't catch. Sarion hesitated, and then nodded in response, and with that, he headed upstairs. Glenn joined him, conversing as they both left. As much as Julian adored Sarion, the man could be pretty intense sometimes, and he was relieved that Lucian had sent him away. He hated arguing in general, and he _especially_ didn't want to argue with a man who was basically his brother-in-law.

Lucian turned his attention to his son. "Julian, Sarion's not wrong. This man is dangerous, regardless of his intentions."

"He needs help, dad," Julian argued pleadingly. "He had nowhere else to stay, and he obviously can't hold his own against whoever it was that did this to him. He needs protection, or at least a good push in the right direction."

Lucian's eyes softened, and he drew Julian in, looping a strong arm over his shoulder. Julian noticed with a streak of glee that he was nearing the height of his own father already, as it took more of an effort for Lucian to throw his arm over his shoulder. His father's voice was affectionate.

"You are definitely your mother's son."

"Speaking of, Mom knew I let him stay here," Julian announced quickly, suddenly getting the idea that maybe bringing his mother into the equation would sway Lucian's opinion.

"She did?"

"Yeah, she helped me get his room ready last night. I told her how I'd met him, and I expressed my opinion of him, and she was fine with it."

Lucian sighed. "Alright. Well, how about this: Keep him here overnight. Watch him closely, make sure there aren't any complications or injuries I didn't catch. Tomorrow, we can get him on his feet and send him on his way. Sarion's right; we don't need him or anything he's involved with brought into our home, especially not with our new family additions here."

Julian grimaced, but nodded. At least they weren't kicking him out right now. This was probably the best he could get.

He followed behind as Lucian lifted the unconscious Warlock up and carried him down into the basement floors, dropping him off in the first available room. Julian pulled up an armchair and settled in, sitting cross-legged and leaning his elbows onto his knees. It wasn't long before he grew bored, and he sighed. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

He felt incredibly sore all over as he awoke, the aches that tugged in his muscles causing him to audibly groan as he sat up. It was pitch black, and for a half-second of fear he worried he'd lost his sight. But then his glow adjusted, and his eyes followed suit, and suddenly he could see everything clearly in the room he was in.

Levianath was lying in a bed more comfortable than any he'd slept in before, its sheets cool and silky and the bedding itself the perfect combination of soft and firm. As he glanced around and took in his surroundings, he was surprised at what he saw in an armchair beside his bed. The red-haired Druid he'd met earlier was sprawled out in a lopsided, slumped form across the armchair, which was far too small to comfortably sleep in.

Levianath furrowed his brows and silently slid out of his comfortable haven, feet hitting cool wooden floor soundlessly, and he padded out of the room without a sound, realizing where he was. He was back at the Silverpaw orchard. His arm and hand jazzed in a ghost-like pain that zig-zagged up his nerves to his shoulder when he moved it, and he winced, inspecting it. This was the pain of a recently-broken but recently-healed bone. Who had healed him? Julian? And how had he found him? Last he remembered, he was left for dead in a dark alley of the Dwarven District.

He ventured up into the first floor of the tree and noted that it was early morning, and that the people in the tree didn't even glance at him when he appeared. Or, at least, all but one.

A young woman with strikingly-bright blue hair glanced over at him and perked up, her almond-shaped eyes widening.

"You must be Levianath!" she exclaimed, and he blinked at her. She approached him, holding out her hand to shake.

"I'm Lily. Julian brought you in last night. I didn't see, but apparently you were in really bad shape."

He lifted his brows. So it _had_ been the kid. "How did he find me?"

"No idea," she shrugged. "But I'm glad he did."

He cocked his head, lips nearly tugging into a smirk. "Me, too."

* * *

Julian

* * *

Somewhere in the night, Julian had fallen asleep. And when he awoke, the bed in front of him was no longer holding a sleeping half-elf.

Blinking away the grogginess in his eyes, Julian sloppily jumped out of his seat and bounded upstairs, hoping desperately he hadn't lost his patient already, but as soon as he reached the main floor, he was relieved to see Levianath standing right across the room. The tall guy was leaning on a doorframe, arms crossed smoothly with a sly look on his face. It took Julian only a second to see who the guy was engaging in conversation.

Levianath was listening with one brow quirked to Lily, who was talking about something Julian couldn't hear. He saw Levianath nod slowly, appearing entertained (though not smiling) at Lily's words, and then saw Lily begin to laugh cheerfully and a subtle smirk find its way onto Levianath's lips.

Relieved, Julian smiled, too, and he approached them both.

"I see you've made yourself at home," Julian said cheerfully, and Levianath glanced over at him and sent him a partial nod. Julian noted how well his father's healing had worked. The man didn't even have bruises left on his cheek.

Levianath lifted a brow. "I suppose I have you to thank for bringing me here last night?"

Julian shrugged. "Actually it was your imp that brought you to me. I just sought out healing."

He saw fondness flicker across the man's face for a half-second. "That so?"

Julian laughed. "If I remember right, his last words to me were 'Don't get him dead.'"

To his surprise, Levianath's head fell back with a loud, legitimate laugh, which was surprisingly infectious, and it made both Julian and Lily beside him begin to grin. This was the first real laugh Julian had heard from the guy, and it was a hell of a lot better than the sulky exterior.

The half-elf nodded cheerfully, brushing one hand over his mouth and black-tufted chin. "Yes," the guy smirked. "Yes, that does sound like him. I'll have to thank him sometime."

Julian smiled, glancing over at Lily. She stuck her tongue out at him, clearly unforgiving from last night, but he just wiggled his brows and puckered his lips at her suggestively. She punched his arm.

Snickering playfully, Julian looked back at Levianath.

"Well, good news is we managed to heal you up from last night. Bad news," Julian paused, grimacing, "is you can't stay here."

He saw Lily gain an appalled expression. "Why not?!" He was a little shocked at her outrage; he thought she barely knew this guy.

Levianath just shrugged before Julian could explain, standing straight from where he'd been leaning against the door frame. "Don't worry, I get that more than you might think. I can be out by noon."

"You don't have to leave immediately," Julian said quickly. He didn't want history to repeat itself with the poor guy. "You want something to eat? We can get some food."

Levianath hesitated there, glowing emerald eyes glancing toward Lily. "Only if she'll dine with us," he smiled charmingly, a look which, as much as Julian wouldn't admit it, worked quite well. The guy totally knew what he was doing.

Julian bit back his own smile and turned his golden gaze down to Lily's, his brows arching sharply with a reading, teasing stare. "Then it's up to you," he told her, hoping she could read him. He was teasing her so hard right now.

Lily ignored his look and perked up. "Of course!" After sending a sly glance at Julian, she offered her hand out, palm-down, in a hilariously-dainty manner that made Julian begin to snicker as Levianath graciously took it and tucked it into his forearm.

"Hey!" Julian complained, biting back laughter with a mixture of blatant jealousy and, to be entirely honest, admiration of Levianath's smooth demeanor. "You two get any more obvious, and I'll feel like the third wheel."

Lily just laughed, but Julian got the creeping suspicion that his joke just might come true. In fact, as much as he hated to admit it, he found himself relieved that the guy would be gone by nightfall.

* * *

Levianath

* * *

After he had been fed and given a small purse of money (courtesy of the tribe's chieftain, Lucian Silverpaw), Levianath was practically ushered out of the forest by Sarion, who was polite but firm in that he was not welcome here. Levianath had encountered this sort of thing enough now that it didn't faze him. People kicked him out all the time, and it didn't upset him in the slightest. At least, that's what he told himself.

First things first, he set off to check ship schedules. Julian and Lily chose to tag along with him, which he didn't mind all that much. Ideally, he would be alone, but he was surprised to find that their company wasn't as annoying as most. Maybe it was their almost ignorant cheerfulness, he wasn't sure. But in a weird way it was pleasant. It allowed him to escape who he was and delve into their personalities, giving him a glimpse of what it would be like to live in their place. Which was, he deduced, a much, much simpler life. They barely even had to work, save for simple farm chores, and those were all done through Druidic magic.

It was a simple, seemingly Utopian lifestyle they led, and it intrigued the man who'd had to fight tooth-and-nail for every little thing he had in his life.

He wasn't surprised when the Darnassian dockmaster said there wouldn't be another ship until Monday, and this was a Thursday. Levianath turned to leave, shoving his hands in his rough-stitched black trouser pockets, and the two elves joined his side, trying to find something to do. Levianath had to find a place to sleep, and he got the feeling that the two people with him wouldn't leave him alone until he'd bought himself a room at an inn somewhere. Which, in retrospect, would be a good idea for him. He didn't feel like running into one of his brothers.

Somehow, they ended up stopping in front of a sketchy-looking tavern, and Lily insisted they eat there, but the guys were more than hesitant. They exchanged skeptical glances, and looked at Lily like she was crazy, but she stood her ground.

"Seriously! Nyela and I have eaten here countless times," she declared, and Levianath bit back a smirk. He wouldn't be surprised right now if she stomped a foot down.

Levianath glanced over at Julian, and Julian just shrugged.

"They like it, how bad could it be?" he said reluctantly, and Levianath cocked his head sideways, before nodding.

"Well, alright," he finally agreed, and the trio headed into the bar. In all Levianath's life in Stormwind, he'd never heard of this place. It was sandwiched, or more like hidden, between a dark alley and an even darker alley. He wondered how Lily and her friend would've ever found a place like this, let alone gone inside.

But they all did, and it turned out better than Levianath had expected. In fact, it reminded him of the taverns in southern Stranglethorn Vale, at the cape town there called Booty Bay. The atmosphere was eerily similar, and he felt more at home here than he had anywhere else in the city, though he didn't rightly know why.

Almost immediately as they all sat down at the bar, Levianath saw Julian shimmy up close to Lily with a smug look on his face and say something Levianath couldn't catch. Lily began to giggle relentlessly and turned her face away from Julian, putting her chin in one hand and resting her elbow on the bar so that Julian could only see the back of her head. Lily made eye contact with Levianath and just beamed, and his heart skipped a beat. He'd known this girl for less than a day, but he knew two things: she was gorgeous, and she seemed entirely at ease with strangers like himself, which was odd. He usually was met with wary glances and furtive scowls.

He was on his guard as usual, but she seemed carefree and way too trusting. Same went for the other guy, Julian. Levianath guessed Julian was around his age, but he couldn't be sure. Julian was as tall as he was and looked like he could be in his twenties, but the way he acted gave Levianath a different idea. He was far too...happy. Grown-ups aren't _that_ happy all the time, are they?

Levianath responded to Lily's look with a simple smirk, and then turned to the bartender, a tough-looking woman with freckled, tanned, callused arms and long, black wiry hair with streaks of white. She sent Levianath a heads-up glance, and he responded with one of his own and ordered a mug for himself. Within ten seconds, it was sitting in front of him at the bar. He'd have to remember to tip her well before the night was over. He usually didn't tip, but he'd been feeling wealthy lately.

Julian and Lily ordered theirs as well, and Levianath watched them warily. He'd never known Night Elves to drink much at all, especially not ale, but these two acted like it was nothing. In normal elf culture, drinking that in public would be considered sloppy. One more reason this tribe was strange. Strangely enough, Levianath found that the more he learned about it, the more he was beginning to appreciate the tribe's rebellious nature, though he'd never admit it out loud.

He saw Julian take a generous drink, wipe his mouth with his sleeve, and then lean against the bar to speak to Lily, who still wasn't looking at him.

"If you were a fruit, you'd be a fine-apple," the redhead said playfully, and Lily snorted. Levianath furrowed his brows in amused confusion, and listened as Julian went in for another line.

"You're so hot you make Burning Steppes look like Northrend," he snickered at her, and she finally looked over at him again.

"Julian, your lines are atrocious," she laughed back.

Julian kept grinning. "I wish I were cross-eyed, so I could see you twice."

"You're gonna get slapped," she replied, still laughing.

He held his hands out in a shrug. "Suit yourself. I've got plenty more where those came from."

"Use them elsewhere," she replied teasingly.

Levianath just shook his head and rolled his eyes, taking a swig of his drink. These two were annoying, but they were still decent company, seeing as unlike most people he encountered, they weren't out to get him. Plus, since he _had_ company, he wasn't being approached by people trying to pick a fight. It's crazy how having even one person with you can sway those looking for easy prey.

As Lily and Julian continued to banter (or was it flirting?), Levianath noticed a crowd enter the tavern which only completed the place's 'Booty Bay' semblance. Four fairly youthful but rough-looking, green-skinned Goblins, two women and two men, marched in and made a beeline for the bar, hopping up easily into the stools and all talking loudly amongst each other, their voices gritty and amusing. The one closest to Levianath and the other two glanced over, giving them all a keen level of scrutiny. Levianath kept his distance from him and didn't care to engage in conversation, but then the guy jerked his head to the side and started to speak to Lily.

"Yo, Toots," the Goblin called out, and Lily pointed her gaze at him cheerfully, waiting for him to continue. "What'cha drinkin, kid?" he asked her in a friendly manner.

She lifted up her tankard. "Well," she studied it a second. "Something made from wheat."

The Goblin laughed aloud. "Like your style," he praised, and then looked at Levianath. "Ever tried Goblin ale?"

Levianath shook his head, expression remaining flat.

The guy shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Shame. Ya haven't lived 'til ya tried it."

Julian perked up from Levianath's other side. "I'll try it."

"Yeah?" the Goblin looked surprised.

Julian nodded. "Sure! But first, let me buy you all drinks."

The Goblin grinned, sharp teeth glinting, reminding Levianath of a shark. "Certainly," he nodded. "Won't pass up an offer like that."

Julian did as he'd promised, and soon enough, within the hour all four Goblins had warmed up to the young man and were crowded around him, throwing out jokes and laughing hysterically at his responses. Levianath observed from the side, biting back the occasional smirk when the conversation reached an uproarious level of humor. Though, most of the time, he remained somewhat stoic. Everyday conversation bored him, and as the voices in the tavern became louder every minute, he became more irritated and wanted to leave.

Finally, the Goblin who'd first spoken to them clapped a hand on Julian's shoulder, calming down from his laughter.

"Kid, we're from an excavation crew based a few hundred leagues south of here. I'll get straight to the point: we came here because we're hirin'. We'd hire just about anyone who can lift a pickaxe, but with you, hell, I'd pay ya to just show up and talk." The laughing man glanced over at Lily, who'd been just as engaged in conversation as Julian. "And as for you, you could bring us in a hell of a lot of money just making hydration rounds to the workers. Ain't no one who can turn down a drink from a pretty girl like you."

Lily smiled. "Sounds fun, but I've never worked a job like that in my life."

"Toots, that's like sayin' ya never tried chocolate so ya never will." The Goblin shook his head.

Lily lifted a brow, leaning an elbow against the bar. "What if I told you I don't like chocolate?"

Levianath glanced over at her. "Who doesn't like chocolate?"

She just returned his look with a sly wink.

"Can't say I'm looking to become a miner," Julian butted in, addressing the Goblins. "But you never know until you try. Anyway, about that drink you offered earlier..."

"Well, they don't sell our brew here," the small green man shrugged in response. "Lucky for you all, we brought some of our own. Won't cost you much." He butted his elbow against another of his kind, leaning back. "'Ey, grab us some of that ale we brought, will ya?"

"Got a customer already?" the other Goblin lifted his brow.

The guy nodded back, winking slyly, and Levianath squinted his eyes. Goblins. Always trying to make coin in overpricing their goods. But then again, what did he care? What was an extra coin to him now? He had over fifty thousand.

The three elves received full servings of the Goblin brew, and they went to town. Levianath had to admit, it did pack a _serious_ kick. He was pretty sure one mug of this equated to ten times the potency whatever he could've gotten his hands on here.

It took Levianath a while to warm up to the Goblins, even though he had to admit they were one of his favorite factions, with their sarcastic humor and give-a-damn attitudes. But halfway through his mug and he'd lost his inhibitions, and he had actually begun to partake in their jokes.

By the time Levianath downed the last drop of his mug, his memories of the night faded to black.

* * *

Julian

* * *

When he woke, Julian's eyes remained closed for a moment as he attempted to pull himself out of his groggy state. He was uncomfortably warm, and the air he was breathing was muggy and hot. Odd, for an April day. It normally didn't get this warm until mid-August, maybe later.

He furrowed his brows, still trying to wake up properly. His whole body felt like lead, and the second he even thought about moving, his head began to pound. His stomach churned, and with grudging realization, Julian accepted this hangover. He couldn't even remember how last night ended. He'd never done this before. Maybe this was a lesson to be learned.

A fly buzzed near his ear and then landed on his cheek, its wings whining that high-pitched tune. He attempted to wave it away, but all it did was crawl to the other side of his cheek. He felt a bead of sweat drip down his forehead, and frowned.

It was far too hot for April. Something was off.

Finally he opened his eyes, and startled at the view. He saw sunlight peeking through a dusty canvas tent roof and blinked, realizing he was definitely _not_ at home. He heard muffled, distant voices and the sounds of working machinery from far away, as well as the occasional squawk of what sounded like exotic birds far overhead.

He sat up, wincing as his head swam, and glanced about frantically, and then relaxed when he saw Levianath's prone form nearby. He wondered where Lily was, but most of all, he wondered where he himself was, as well as what the hell was going on. He leaned forward toward the flap of the tent, but paused when his head shot with pain again. This definitely wasn't just the effects of alcohol, he concluded. He felt drained and confused, not just hungover. He'd had all of three drinks last night. The two rounds he'd bought for the Goblins, and then the one Goblin brew.

What had been in that drink?

Gritting his teeth, he finally pulled the tent door to the side. A burst of muggy air, even hotter than in the tent, hit him square, and bright sunlight refracted off of crystalline shards that grew out of the ground and bright, dense green jungle plants. His eyes widened despite the pain of the light that jarred them. Where _was_ he?

Levianath stirred and sat up beside him, and Julian looked over at him, eyes still bugging out. Levianath looked almost bored, exhausted, and he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms as Julian sat there speechless.

Julian finally found his voice. "Where the hell are we?"

Levianath yawned slowly, appearing unimpressed, and squinted his eyes, peering out of the tent door. He must have recognized it, because he then sighed.

"Well I'll be damned," Levianath grunted, his voice still sleepy. "We're in Stranglethorn Vale."


	5. Out of the Frying Pan

**Long time no update, eh? :) **

**Sorry I've been solely focusing on this story, but with school, it's so much easier to simply stick to one timeline. I hope you all don't mind. :)**

**Responses:**

* * *

**Mythique: He's the kind of cheesiness, if nothing else. ;D**

**Kintaraheart: Bwahhaa, maybe you've got a Truman Show thing going on and you just haven't realized it yet. :O**

**Zarabethe: Oh yeah, Lev and Julian will need to team up in the upcoming chapter.. I couldn't bear to make him the bad guy. ;D**

**NyteKnight: Ahaha! No kidding! Sarion's would certainly be far less cheesy, that's for sure. :D**

**LadyRaftina: Lily does have her part to play, still, but she may be a bit AWOL for a while. And awww, yes, I didn't even think of that! They totally do line up! :D I have some entertaining plans for that imp.**

**psalty: Yes it would! From Stormwind to Stranglethorn overnight! xD **

**ChelinkaTheArchmage: Can't trust those Goblins! But don't worry, we may meet a good one soon. :) And you're at 2/3 with those predictions, as long as we stay vague. :P**

**Noriana26: HEY! Haven't talked to you in ages. Hahhaha that triangle is trying to form... x) I'll keep writing! :D**

* * *

Julian lobbed a heavy burlap sack full of stone into a wooden cart, its boards creaking at the added weight. The muscles in his back and arms protested his every move, but at this point, he didn't even care. His job was to load, transport, and unload carts between mining sites and the camps. Levianath was working a different cart; the two had barely seen one another this entire week.

Why was he working? Funny story, really. If, by 'funny,' one means 'entirely unfair and morally wrong.'

Those Goblins they'd met back at that bar in Stormwind? Yeah, they really were recruiting workers, but not in a way that could be deemed all that legal in most places. As far as Julian and Levianath were informed, they got completely smashed, and in their inebriation, signed binding contracts into their jobs, contracts which basically boiled down to the two of them signing themselves over to slave labor. The Goblins had even provided proof of those contracts; it'd definitely been their signatures. Seemed they'd signed up and hitched a ride all the way to the jungle while too trashed to remember any of it.

But the two guys knew better. They'd been tricked. Something had been in those drinks, or possibly they'd been under the influence of mind control. Three drinks was not the limit of either men, and for goodness' sake, these were Goblins they were dealing with. Of course they'd do something like this. Levianath had accused them of trickery outright, and had actually gotten into a pretty intense shouting match before being dragged off and "subdued" by overseers. Julian had later learned from other workers that Levianath had been beaten until he shut up, but Levianath wouldn't admit it. The bruises showed, resembling almost those of when Levianath had been attacked (Julian still hadn't learned who had done that to him). But no one commented on them.

Julian also didn't know where Lily was. He could only hope she hadn't gotten caught up in this mess. She wouldn't last a day down in this jungle. In all honesty Julian was surprised that he actually had. He rarely ever saw Levianath during the day other than during their short lunch break, and even then, the two barely talked, because they only had a certain amount of time to eat and would miss out on their meal if they wasted it by talking.

After the first few days, in which they tried desperately to find loopholes or escapes, they realized with grudging acceptance that there really was no way out. They'd contracted themselves in; the only way they could get out of it was if their contractors released them, or if something happened to said contractors or possibly the work site itself. And neither of those were happening soon.

There were overseers swarming the place, so there was literally no way to escape by fleeing, unless they had portals. Neither of them did. Levianath _would_ if he'd had his imp summoned, who could use demonic gateways between short distances. But there was never a time to summon the demon. Any time the overseers saw someone working magic, they'd stop them in whatever way was necessary.

In short, Julian had come to the conclusion that he'd been duped into servitude. He was, without a better way to put it, enslaved. Working against his will, with no way to contact his family to let them know where he was. He supposed by now they were _really_ worried, and they probably also thought Levianath was behind it all, which made him feel bad. The poor guy had taken this whole servitude thing even worse than Julian had and put up a much larger fight, which in turn constituted much larger workloads, not to mention cruel punishment for fighting it.

Sighing, Julian threw another heavy bag into the cart. He still wasn't even entirely sure what it was that they were 'excavating'. If he had to guess, it was some sort of valuable marine mineral, but he couldn't be sure. There was a deposit in the caves, and his job was to haul it all. The camp and the sites were set up right on the edge of the crystal blue southern sea, and the workers slaved away in the cliffside caves by the surf. The entire place was jagged and rocky and unforgivably hot under the beating sunlight. The rays reflected off of the surface of the water into Julian's eyes, and at this point, his light sensitivity was giving him a run for his money. He worried that the damage to his eyes was even worse than his sunburn, his exhaustion, or the fact that his overworked muscles felt like they would give out at any second.

Another bag went into the cart, and finally it was full enough to take back. The campsites were built into the jungle, under the shade, and as much as he hated the places themselves, they were still a big improvement. He took the cart along the hard-packed pathway leading back into the trees, his mind delving deeper into internal thoughts as he himself delved into the thick, muggy forest.

His highest priority right now was to get a message to his father to inform him of what was going on. Although all the workers were kept under constant armed watch both night and day, the first chance Julian got, he aimed to get a message out to his father. He'd overheard some of the other workers (many he guessed had been working this job for ages) talk about some sort of weekend-like break at the end of every month. They called it recess, which struck him funny for some reason, but it gave him hope.

As the cart made its way along the path, up ahead Julian saw Levianath approaching from the opposite direction with an empty cart and another worker with him. Julian's face lifted. He hadn't seen Levianath for two days, and a familiar face was enough to brighten the young man's spirits. He picked up his pace and then stopped by the half-elf, glancing sideways at a human overseer about twenty yards up the road. The overseer watched him closely. Too much talk between the workers was promptly stopped; Julian had to be short about this.

Levianath, whose hair was tugged back into a low tail and his face smudged with dirt, looked exhausted, but still had a defiant spark in his eye that hadn't left yet. A scab rested on his lower lip and a bruise mottled the skin around it. The guy had been fighting again, probably against the overseers. Julian worried about how many times they'd allow Levianath to create conflict before taking larger measures. Would he just be fired? No, they wouldn't be that stupid; Levianath was a witness and could bring in someone to uproot the whole operation, seeing as this was all very illegal according to most factions. They'd have no choice but to dispose of him permanently.

Pushing that troubling thought from his mind, Julian stepped a little closer.

"Hey. I've been thinking... If we can get a message to my dad, we might be able to get out."

Levianath dropped his stance, eyes shifting toward the guard. "Keep your voice down," he murmured, and shook his head. "You know they don't let us send mail."

"At the end of the month, we just might be able to," Julian whispered, glancing at the guard again, who met Julian's gaze and then became suspicious. As the guard started to walk over, Julian spoke hurriedly. "I keep hearing about this thing called recess. We get a few days off. I'll find a way to get a message out."

Levianath glanced sideways and then immediately straightened up, speaking in a louder tone. "No, I don't know of any women here. Now get back to work and quit wasting my time, boy."

Julian's brows lifted. At first he was confused, and then realized that Levianath was burying their conversation with a ridiculous diversion. He cleared his throat as Levianath sent him a look.

"Alright, well, thanks anyway," Julian turned back to his cart just as the suspicious overseer arrived. The guy studied Julian and Levianath for a moment, and then quirked a brow at Julian after Levianath had gone on his way.

"You seriously just asked that worker where to find women?" the armed man spoke in a mocking tone.

Julian feigned a smirk and shrugged. "Never hurts to ask."

"Get back to work," the man ordered and shoved him roughly by the shoulder against the cart, and Julian grimaced as his back hit the wood at a sharp angle, but he did as the guy told, grudgingly returning to his job. Technically, Julian was pretty sure he could beat the overseer at hand-to-hand combat. Even with a weapon, the man was smaller than Julian in both height and muscle. Problem was, though, that he wasn't the only overseer there. Julian couldn't risk it.

He gritted his teeth in restraint, feeling his heart beginning to fall as the true reality began to finally, legitimately sink in for the first time that week. This whole thing had felt like a distant dream, as if he could wake up from it someday and it would all be whisked away.

But this was not his imagination; it was real, and he was stuck.

* * *

Later that night, Julian finished his last round of hauling that stupid cart back and forth, and he let out an exhausted breath as he headed toward the showers. Cleaning all the grime and sweat off was becoming one of the best parts of the day, and the only time he had to relax. The sun had already set and he had to be up before it rose again to repeat the workday, but he still wanted to shower before sleeping. It was the only thing he had to enjoy anymore.

The water itself was fresh and clean; after a week, Julian still found the showers strange. He'd never used a shower before. The odd structures were made possible by utilizing a pressurized water system, and although there was no temperature control, the water was lukewarm and felt comfortably cool against his sore shoulders.

When he stepped out and dressed in clean clothing (they wore plain uniforms, just one more thing that pointed toward slavery), he heard something that caught his attention. Laughter. Not something you hear all the time in this place.

His curiosity had been piqued. He followed the sound, passing the overseers with as much confidence as possible to sway them from thinking he was somewhere he shouldn't be. He'd never gone to this side of the camp; so far he'd just stayed within the confines of the workers' quarters. The pathways were lit with flickering torches, and the sounds of insects and amphibians singing in the surrounding jungle nearly drowned out the sounds of laughter.

The tent in question was large, one of the largest ones they had, and its material consisted of a rough, treated canvas that no doubt kept it cooler. He swallowed, glancing around, surprised he'd managed to slip out of his boundaries. The nearby guards had not yet seen him, a fact that gave him hope; if they didn't notice him slipping out now, they might not notice him just leaving altogether. Of course, he wouldn't leave without Levianath, but maybe he _did_ have a chance at escape after all. If by the time recess was over he hadn't been able to send out a message, this would be his backup plan.

He listened in close to the tent, hiding down in the shadows beside one cloth wall. A light from within cast shadows onto the material, and he could make out forms of humans and goblins, and the occasional troll, all of which were most likely overseers. Jeering, loud voices came from within, and the shadows moved about erratically.

A voice came from right behind him that made him almost topple over in fright.

"What are you doing?" he heard a harsh whisper close to his ear, and he jumped and whipped around, only to get a hand clamped over his mouth. His reaction would have been far more volatile, if not for his eyes being met with Levianath's stern gaze.

Julian let out a breath and tugged Levianath's hand from his face, his heart thudding hard against his chest.

Julian swore, biting back a relieved laugh. "You scared me."

"What are you doing?" Levianath repeated, glancing around. "If we get caught, they won't be kind. I of all people know this."

This was the closest Levianath had come to admitting the abuse he'd received from the overseers. Julian cleared his throat. "I was just curious," he whispered back.

"Curiosity sated?" Levianath's tone was peeved.

"No," Julian shook his head, and then hesitated, changing topics. "Wait, what are _you_ doing here?"

"Following you," the half-elf retorted. "I saw you slip off the path and came after you. Gods know how we avoided getting caught."_  
_

Suddenly, Julian had a realization, and his eyes brightened. He reached out and grabbed Levianath's shoulder. "Hey," he said abruptly.

"What?"

"If you're here, and we haven't been caught, this means we might be able to escape."

"Right now?"

"Right now," Julian nodded. He glanced around, taking note of the guards' locations. He saw four posted, all of which were off standing near the torches. This was far fewer guards than were posted in the workers' square. As long as Julian and Levianath stayed out of sight, they just might make it.

Levianath frowned. "Do you even know which way is north? We're in the middle of a jungle."

"Doesn't matter; as long as we find a road, we can follow it to a town. Or, even better, once we get far enough away, you can summon your imp. He's proven helpful in the past, right?"

The dark elf squinted his eyes. "Yes, but... I don't know," he trailed off hesitantly. "If we get caught..."

"We've wasted enough time already talking," Julian interrupted hurriedly, standing up carefully and staying in the shadows. "Are you in or are you out?"

Levianath's jaw pulsed, eyes darting over the guards in the area. "I'm in," he said finally. "Got a plan?"

Julian's brows furrowed as he studied their surroundings. On the one hand, he knew that on the far side of the camp, there was a road that probably led away from the whole place. On the other hand, reaching that road could end up with them being discovered. Their best bet would probably be to make a run for it into the jungle behind them and hope they didn't encounter any dangerous creatures in their escape.

Julian voiced that thought, and Levianath, after a few moments of thought, nodded as well.

"Sounds good. But we don't run. We stay methodical. Quiet. No attention drawn to us if we move slow and low to the ground. Once we're far enough away, I'll do the summoning ritual, and Pip'tai can port us out."

Julian nodded, taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a quiet whoosh, shaking out his hands nervously and cracking his neck to the side once in anticipation. His heart was now running a mile a minute. He began to lead Levianath out into the jungle, the two of them staying entirely silent as they crept through the ferns and between tall trees.

He halted when he heard voices up ahead and saw a soft glow of a torch. Levianath slunk up beside him, crouching, and peered off in the same direction of the sound. Not five seconds later, a decent-sized patrolling party became visible through the brush, not even five yards away.

"Think they're friendly?" Julian wondered quietly, heart thudding in fear of being caught.

Levianath's voice was barely a whisper. "Look at what they're wearing. That's overseer garb. They're part of the camp."

Julian swore under his breath.

Levianath spoke again. "Just wait for them to pass by. Don't move a m-"

A scuffle caused Julian to startle, and then he saw Levianath get yanked backward soundlessly. He stood immediately, stumbling backward, unexpectedly colliding with what felt like another person behind him.

"What do we have here?" It was a human, by the sound of it. Julian whirled around, but not fast enough, and didn't see a thing.

"Levianath!" Julian called out shakily, stumbling a step back again.

"The two of ya have been trouble since we brought ya in," a Goblin's gritty voice chided, and Julian's eyes widened as a familiar Goblin stepped into view in front of him. "I expected somethin' like this from your troublesome friend, but not from you, kid."

"Where'd you take him?" Julian asked shakily, taking another step back. He didn't have time to let the regret of being caught sink in; the anxiety was too great.

"The dark one? Taken back to camp. As we will with you." The Goblin advanced, and Julian tensed up, ready to fight back. However, he felt a sudden blunt pain hit him hard over the head and was out like a rock.

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

After being gagged and dragged back to camp, Levianath was taken into the large tent where he and Julian had initially hidden behind earlier. His wrists were bound behind his back, his ankles were hobbled, and upon being dragged into the tent, he was tossed to the dusty ground. The overseers, who appeared to be having some sort of arm wrestling contest, barely paid attention to him, although about half the people in the tent did part a circle around him and watched him attentively.

The human who'd dragged him back spat on the ground beside him, and Levianath grimaced.

The guy's voice was annoying as it was rough. "Gettin' real bloody tired of this one," the human hissed. "Caught him and his other elf friend halfway to the 'Bay. This is the last straw."

Levianath saw him snap a finger at another overseer beside him. "Fetch the boss, will ya? I want this elf out of here in any way I can get."

The overseer in response nodded and left the tent. Just then, Levianath saw another group bring Julian in and chuck him on the floor beside Levianath. His anger surged when he saw that the boy was unconscious. The kid didn't deserve any of this.

To the side, another round of arm wrestling commenced, and most people began to focus on the sport rather than the captured escapees, making bets and letting their excitement rise to a din of shouting and jeering. Apparently they'd come to a logical conclusion that two incapacitated elves weren't that big of a threat.

Levianath's teeth ground down against his gag, and as the overseers who brought the two in began to talk amongst one another about what to do, he tried to nudge Julian's shoulder with his boot to wake him. The kid didn't budge. He shoved a little harder, and Julian startled awake, eyes flashing open. Julian wasn't gagged, and he inhaled sharply.

"What happened?" he prompted quickly, then noticed Levianath was gagged. He scooted forward, then appeared to realize his wrists were bound as well.

Julian's eyes darted around. "What do we do?"

He sounded more innocent with that question than ever before, and Levianath's brows tightened as an unexpected emotion hit him, one he might even consider to be sympathy. Had he developed a soft spot for the kid? Possibly, given that Julian was the first person to show him genuine kindness since he could remember.

One of the overseers noticed Julian was talking, and she kicked him in the side with her boot. "Shut up, you," she growled, her voice gritty.

Levianath's nostrils flared, and his arms flexed against the bindings, despite the rope burning his wrists as he dug against it. He growled through the cloth in his mouth, eyes shooting daggers at the woman.

However, surprisingly, Julian did not accept the abuse quietly. He began to laugh, which made Levianath pause and stare at him in confusion. This boy really was insane, he began to realize.

"You people have no idea who you're messing with," he snickered, half to himself. Levianath's brows furrowed, and one of the Goblins caught Julian's words as well.

"Oh, yeah?" the Goblin piped up, speaking as if he were just humoring the kid. "And who _are_ we messing with?"

Julian craned his neck up to the green-skinned man. "Ever heard of my father?"

"Should I have?"

Julian shrugged, smirking with one side of his mouth and glancing off to the side. "Perhaps if you had, you'd have left the two of us back in Stormwind."

Only then did Levianath recognize the Goblin speaking as the same one they'd met that night in the tavern in Stormwind. His anger began to bury him again just by seeing the guy's face.

"Why's that?" the Goblin wondered, interest piqued.

"My father is Lucian Silverpaw," Julian retorted. The Goblin returned with a blank look, and Julian sighed. "You know, Lucian 'war-legend, cross-faction-emissary, super-scary-when-he-wants-to-be, rebel-Druid-tribe-leader' Silverpaw? And don't even get me started on my mother. She's twice as bad."

Levianath saw the guy's eyes widen, and another Goblin lady stepped in, chiding the man.

"Are you kiddin' me, Kwoxel?" she smacked the back of his head, and he ducked, grimacing. Her voice was squeaky. "You brought a gods-damned _Silverpaw_ into our camp? Man, you're more dimwitted than I thought."

"Ah, he just spoofin'," Kwoxel retorted. "He ain't a Silverpaw, he's just tryin' to scare us, Blizette."

"Look at him!" Blizette squeaked. "If that don't look like the mix between a Night Elf and a Blood Elf, I dunno what is. He even signed a contract! You didn't think to check his name _then_?"

"I ain't a proofreader, kid! I just bag 'em and tag 'em. I don't give two bolts about what his name is."

"Well, it might'ah been a good idea to know _before_ you nabbed a Silverpaw. You know the boss keeps the nobles off-limits. Yer supposed to only take those who ain't gonna be missed when they're gone."

"Fine, then we'll just kill 'em and be rid of it all. Boss don't even gotta know," Kwoxel folded his arms. The surrounding overseers listening seemed to like this idea by nodding.

Levianath's fingernails dug into his palms at that, but then he heard a high-pitched female voice from the opening of the tent.

"Boss don't gotta know about what?"

The whole tent fell into silence, and Levianath craned his neck to catch a glimpse. He saw a green-skinned Goblin walking in, and the workers parted around her as she did so.

"Now, can someone tell me why the hell you brought me in here at-" she glanced at her wrist, "-half past midnight?"

A few more seconds of dead silence passed, and then Blizette finally spoke up. "We got two workers that bolted, and we brought 'em in. They've been trouble since they got here, and we wanna snuff 'em. Problem is, we found out that this one," she pointed at Julian by nodding her head toward him, "is the kid of that Silverpaw chump in Stormwind."

"Silverpaw? As in the Druid?"

"One and only."

The woman, who Levianath could only guess was the boss of the whole operation, turned her gaze to Julian. "This true?"

"He won't stop 'til he finds us," Julian said simply, seeming unaffected by the Goblin's presence, although Levianath had to admit she was an intimidating person. Julian continued, "And if you kill either of us, you can be sure he'll destroy you."

The boss didn't look fazed. She leaned down and pinched one of Julian's cheeks. Her voice was overly cheerful. "The tropical sun has been kind to your pretty face, hasn't it? Look at these freckles."

Julian grimaced, pulling his face from her hand in disgust. She just laughed, the sound unnervingly musical, and looked up at a human beside her who was presumably a bodyguard.

"We're sending a ship off to Tanaris in the morning. Just throw him in the cargo hold with his friend and hand 'im off to the slavers once you get there. Easy. They'll sell, too. They're both skinny, but any substance they do have is all muscle. They'll bring us some good coin with the right buyers."

Levianath's face began to heat up at the thought of being sold like livestock, and Julian looked frantic. The boss leaned back down to eye level with Julian.

"Now why would your daddy come here lookin' if there's no trace of you in the first place? We already sent that girlie friend of yours to another camp, so once you're outta my hair, your trail ends before it even begins."

For the first time, Levianath saw what looked to be true anger flit across Julian's face, and to be honest, it was chilling. Julian's eyes flashed angrily, and he spat at the boss's feet, baring his sharp teeth and looking for a split-second almost frighteningly like his father, gaining a feral touch.

The woman's lip curled in disgust, and without warning her hand swung out, catching the side of Julian's face in a hard slap. He growled audibly, seething, and Levianath swallowed carefully. He had to remind himself never to piss this kid off, if ever again he was presented with the chance. It almost felt as if the air itself around them had become hostile just with Julian's shift in mood.

"Get 'em outta here," the Goblin ordered, and Levianath felt hands grab his arms and hoist him to his feet. Her voice was disdainful. "I don't wanna see their pretty faces ever again."

* * *

**Now... Let's see. What could _possibly_ happen to a cargo ship in contested waters? ;)**


	6. Into the Fire

**Two chapters this weekend. :D I'm so sporadic these days. Sorry 'bout that!**

**Julian barely gets any words at all in this chapter. Poor Julian. **

**Responses:**

**Noriana26: Yes! :D This chapter is crazy. At least, compared to the others. And YESS I'm glad you guys picked up on that. Norivana is going to have her part to play. Everyone's all focused on Lucian. Little do they know, there's a very pissed tiger-mama Rogue out there to find her baby.**

**NyteKnight: I'm cracking up that you and Noriana26 had the same idea. xD**

**Zarabethe: Oooh yes, it's a rare thing, his anger. We might only see it a few more times total in this story. But when we do... Mwahahaha. :D And yes! I should've addressed that; my sister and I actually talked about whether he'd have portals or not. We sort of concluded that, like his Druidic training, he's still a newbie. He's better at the frost magic and minor charms and conjuring and what have you, but big things like portals and stuff he still has not delved into. **

**ChelinkaTheArchmage: YES! ALL OF THOSE! Ahahah cracking me up here. :P I'm jealous of your hot cocoa, but not legal homework. Nope, not for me! **

* * *

The old wooden planks of the ship groaned and creaked as the vessel surged through the open sea. Levianath's fingers tingled after remaining static for nearly the entire time he'd been on this ship. Had it been weeks? Likely, yes. They ate once a day, shackled to the walls within cells below deck. They were lucky to have a full glass of fresh water with their meals. Levianath took this as the slavers' precaution against his and Julian's magic. Hard to do magic with no energy or mana. It was almost torturous, though, being shackled only feet away from the food storage. Across the small room, Levianath could see crates of citrus fruits sitting closest to him. He'd trained himself not to look at them, but just knowing they were there was quite distressing. He was so hungry.

The two had been placed into identical cells and were shackled to the floors. They never spoke now; there was nothing to talk about, and neither had enough energy to do it anyways. Julian had quit talking on the third day, and as Levianath now looked over at the boy, he felt worry rise in the back of his mind. Julian's eyes were burdened with dark circles, and his mouth rested in a permanent frown that tugged at exaggerating dimples in his chin that had previously never been seen.

A particularly forceful lurch in the ship's motion had Levianath's stomach reeling. He heard footsteps pick up overhead, a scattered 'thump thump' and shadows pass over the thin beams of dusty sunlight that had fought their way through the gaps between the deck's planks. Within just a few minutes (or was it more? Time was immeasurable), those sunshafts began to fade into a darker hue, then to a bluish light, and then were barely there at all. A loud, vast rumble made the walls of the ship shudder.

Levianath let his head fall back against the bowed wall. This was a thunderstorm. As if the rocking of the ship on calmer waters wasn't bad enough.

The ship rocked violently again over what he could only guess was a great swell in the water, tipping the vessel to the side and sending its nose high into the air. Levianath began to tumble to the side, if not for being shackled to the wall. The metal around his wrists dug into his arms as gravity pulled him the opposite direction. A glance in Julian's direction showed that the kid had the fortitude of a ragdoll right now. Wherever the ship leaned, Julian did too, uncaring that the shackles at his wrists were now cutting into his skin. Either he was too fatigued to take care of himself, or he didn't care.

Levianath heard shouts and unintelligible orders from higher positions being called out above. As the ship crashed back down, items around the cells began to slide from one wall to the other, and suddenly all the crates of food began to slide onto the ground, spilling their contents all over the floor. The fruits, seemingly oranges, began to roll with the swaying of the ship. It tipped to one side, and suddenly Levianath was met with dozens of oranges that rolled across the floors and into his and Julian's cells.

Without a second thought, he grabbed one in his shackled hands and ripped at the peel frantically. If anyone were to come down those stairs over there, this food would be confiscated in seconds. Who would have thought a single, half-ripened fruit could be so precious?

As he tore the bitter skin from the meat, he glanced over at Julian.

"Hey!" he exclaimed to the kid. "Julian! Look up!"

The boy didn't budge, his entire body still entirely slack. His eyes were half-lidded, and he stared at nothing. Dark, crimson blood trickled down one wrist from when he'd scraped it on the shackles. The boy needed energy.

"Julian!" Levianath shouted now. Everyone upstairs was shouting; one more voice would be lost among theirs. "Eat! Grab that orange by your hand, and eat! Now!"

At the mention of food, Julian stirred, but that was about it. His head lifted barely, hands clenched up slightly, and then he stilled again. Levianath growled to himself and bit into the fruit, grabbing another one beside him before they all would decide to roll away again. He piled a few into his lap, and began to eat them as fast as he could. He went through four fruits before looking back over at Julian's slumped form. Levianath was used to going for long spells of not eating, so this wasn't as bad as it could've been. But he guessed that Julian had never had that issue, and it was obvious now. He couldn't handle this level of pseudo-starvation.

"Julian," he coaxed again. "Wake. Up. You _need_ to eat something."

The boy didn't respond, so Levianath grabbed an orange and chucked it through the bars. It hit the kid's arm and then rolled a few feet out in front of him. Julian didn't even react.

"Damn it all!" Levianath hissed angrily, slamming one fist into the floor. "What's the use? Why the hell should I even care?" He glared over at Julian as he finished off another fruit. "You got me into all of this. I shouldn't care. I should hate you."

The ship swayed, and a non-responsive Julian crumpled over, his red hair falling over his face toward the floor. Levianath heard loud shouts overhead and another boom of thunder, though this one sounded different. Closer, louder, almost...not like thunder.

Another one sounded, and half a second later, the entire far wall of the ship splintered into a thousand pieces. With a shout of surprise, Levianath shielded his eyes with his forearm and felt the splinters hit him like shrapnel. He was pretty sure at least one or two had punctured the exposed skin on his arms, but they were small enough that it wasn't a big deal. The larger pieces had been blocked by the cell bars. If ever he were to be thankful for imprisonment, it was now.

His heart was pumping. It wasn't until he saw that the iron bars of his cage had been dented in that he realized what had done this: a cannon ball. Not only were they in the middle of a storm, but they were under attack in the middle of a storm. By whom, he had no idea, but he could only hope they didn't intend to sink the ship.

Another part of the wall shattered, and murky saltwater began to rush in through the gash in the wall. With a single silent prayer sent off to no one in particular, Levianath began to draw at his magic pool. There had to be something there now; his energy had increased tenfold after consuming those oranges. A nice drink of fresh water would be nice, and he had to remind himself that the water lapping at his feet and legs as he sat in it was diluted with salt. It would be the opposite of refreshing, despite how great it felt on his skin.

After a few moments of intense concentration, he finally felt it: the spark of his fel magic began to ignite, and he began to chant his spell under his breath. He needed to get out of these shackles. With a few more rounds of his summoning, he felt his arms infuse with the strength of the demon he'd summoned, the same one he'd used to break that lock in the orchard. Levianath let out a snicker as he sensed the anger coming from the creature. Oh, how he missed this feeling. It was empowering and corrupting all at once, and he felt a comfortable, dulling layer of calm wash over his mind as he felt his power returning. The fel energy dulled his emotions and increased his instinct. He needed to survive. And seeing as this ship was going down, he needed to get out of the shackles.

"Break these," he ordered the demon, and it did as he said without the option of argument. He had full control over this creature. Control: a feeling he'd been deprived of since the moment he had woken up in that jungle.

Levianath stood up, legs sore from their lack of use. He sensed the demon beside him practically oozing with fel energy, and he took the liberty of stealing some of it for himself. He had discovered the talent of stealing others' energy a few years ago and had used it sparingly, save for demons. The demon had a lot more where that came from.

He made the demon break the bars of his cell and stepped out of it, feet sloshing through the deepening flood. Fruit and other items were floating around his legs, and as a precaution he grabbed a few pieces and wrapped them up in a swatch of soaked cloth that hung from a hook on a nearby support beam. He was making this all up as he went along; he didn't know what he'd meet when he got upstairs, who was attacking this ship, or how close he was to land. Food might be nice, if it ended up he managed to escape.

He made for the stairs, and then paused. He glanced back at the cells. The young hybrid elf was still shackled in place, halfway-submerged in deepening water. Levianath grimaced. The boy was as good as dead anyways, and he'd only slow Levianath down.

Levianath took a few steps up, then looked at Julian again. After a few moments, he swore loudly and smacked a hand against the wall beside the stairs. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, then sighed. He couldn't do it. He couldn't leave the kid, not after everything.

The demon behind him continued to growl angrily, and Levianath turned back toward it, addressing it directly. He pointed back toward Julian.

"Save him. Keep him alive, and get him off this ship."

The demon, whose eyes were really the only non-transient part of it, simply glared, though this in itself was acquiescence. Levianath nodded once, and headed up the stairs. He paused at the hatch, steeling himself for the apparent chaos above; explosions and shouting could be heard in a constant drone. To his surprise, though, the hatch was yanked open before he could do it himself, and he was suddenly face-to-face with a slaver, whose face was dirtied and blackened and had blood pooling at one corner of his mouth. Rain fell hard all around, and Levianath welcomed it. It was cold on his face, refreshing on his chapped lips.

The two opponents shared a momentary staredown before the other man attacked first. He grabbed Levianath by the shirt and yanked him up onto the deck, but before he could get a chance to actually attack, Levianath rolled off to the side and stood, backing up until he'd cornered himself against the captain's cabin. He grabbed a stray, shattered rod of wood in one hand as a weapon, and in the other hand drew shadow energy into his palm. The fruit he'd tied to his waist jostled and was distracting, but he wouldn't leave it.

The slaver, instead of attacking Levianath, glanced to the side and leapt backward, just in time for one of the ship's tall masts to come crashing down where he'd just stood. Levianath lost his balance at the impact and fell sideways against one wall, hitting full-force against one shoulder. His weapon fell and rolled away, and the oranges in his makeshift satchel came loose and rolled out onto the floor at his feet.

Now recovered, the slaver came at Levianath again, and with nothing else to defend himself, Levianath grabbed one of the oranges at his feet and threw it at the man, successfully hitting him square in the face. Of course, this only stalled him for a second, but Levianath took another one and with some minor difficulty tore it in half, and the second the slaver reached him, the half-elf took both halves of the orange and squeezed juice into the man's eyes.

The slaver cried out in surprise and obvious pain, now blinded, and Levianath smirked despite the dire nature of his situation. These oranges had proven their worth far more than he had expected.

Chaos all around, Levianath ran to the edge of the deck and peered through the rain off toward the opposing ship. A single glance, and he knew these attackers were pirates. A black flag with a vivid red moon in the middle flew at the top mast, and the sails themselves were dyed a dark blood hue. To his surprise, both ships were almost perilously close to the Tanaris shore, possibly due to the storm.

Levianath, after seeing the shore, made a split decision. If he had to choose between dying in the hands of slavers, in the hands of pirates, or on his own, he'd choose the last. The swim to shore wasn't impossibly far. He could make it. He backed up a few steps, orienting himself toward shore, and without much hesitation, he took a running leap off into the water.

Unexpectedly, though, as soon as his feet left the ship, it exploded.

A flash of green light, a deafening boom, and Levianath was thrown hard into the water. The salt burned his sinuses as it forced its way into the back of his throat. As he sank down a few feet below, he was almost entirely sure that him being underwater was the only thing that kept him from being skewered or struck with giant, shattered slabs of wood. Heavy debris fell all around him, and he dodged as well as he could, watching an entire cannon hit the surface and sink not ten feet from him. He fought against the pull and current it created, threatening to sink him with it. He forced himself to stay under for another ten seconds before finally surfacing, gasping a huge breath of fresh air and being tossed about by violent waves.

A single thought hit him, dread washing over him even stronger than the water that tried to drag him under. Julian had been on that ship.

He blinked the water from his eyes. Debris littered the water around him, anywhere from wood of the ship to broken crates, to half-destroyed bodies of those who'd been caught in the blast. Levianath refused to check faces, mostly in fear of recognizing the boy he'd spent his imprisonment with.

The debris was engulfed in fel fire, green flames licking at it even underwater. This wasn't a normal explosion, it was... _fel_ fire. And if Levianath hadn't been the cause of it, the only other thing he knew of on that ship that'd had enough power to create a blast like that was the demon he'd put in charge of freeing Julian.

Sputtering, the Warlock reached out and grabbed a large plank for buoyancy, unaffected by the flames that tried to eat at his skin as he came into contact. As soon as he had a good amount of leverage, he began to shout, eyes searching frantically for any sign of life.

"Julian!" he bellowed, but the sound was swallowed by a sudden crack of thunder. The rain intensified, nearly blinding him, and he could barely see ten feet in any direction. He called the boy's name again and again until he was hoarse. He'd lost his sense of direction, and could not see the shore.

He saw something drifting toward him, what looked to be a far larger hunk of wood, something he could actually climb onto. He released the plank he'd been holding and swam to the raft. As he pulled himself up onto it, he nearly choked in surprise at who was lying on it.

"Julian!" he exclaimed in shock, immediately leaning down and pressing an ear to the boy's chest. A very subtle rhythm was present, and Levianath let out an incredulous laugh, leaning back onto his heels. He noted that the raft had been crafted; someone had taken the time to make it and ensure Julian would not fall off.

"That damned creature actually did something right," he chuckled.

Julian stirred at the sound of Levianath's voice, and to his surprise, he saw the kid's eyes flick open.

Julian groaned, and then a smile stretched lazily onto his face. "Lev, I think the ship exploded."

Levianath began to laugh, something he found he did often around this kid. "You're very correct." He looked around, ignoring the pouring rain and the thunder.

The redheaded elf grinned sloppily, with sopping wet red hair still sticking to his face. "That was _extremely_ cool."

Levianath smirked and searched for land again. The rain began to let up until it was a light sprinkle, and although the clouds still loomed, he could see the edge of the falling rain as it moved away.

It wasn't until a towering, dark form parted through the rain that Levianath realized they'd been drifting, and he began to paddle frantically out of the way, afraid that he was about to be hit by the pirate ship itself. He heard voices from the ship, and only after a few seconds did he realize that his attempts were futile. In a matter of seconds, they'd be crushed.

In a last attempt at survival, Levianath grabbed Julian and launched both himself and the boy off of the raft and into the water, as far as possible from the advancing ship. It wasn't more than half a dozen feet, but it was better than nothing, and as he and Julian sank into the deep water, he felt Julian come to his senses and begin to act as well. And thank goodness, too, because Levianath would not have been able to hold the kid up as well as himself; Julian was, oddly enough, bigger than he was. Julian kept himself mostly afloat, and Levianath pulled them further from the ship. They were avoiding it only by a matter of a few feet.

Just when Levianath thought that they were in the clear, he felt something hook onto his shirt at his shoulder and tug. He let out a shout of surprise and yanked himself free, but then heard a voice.

"Oy! We got survivors!"

It came from whatever had been pulling on him, and he glanced back to see a burly-looking human man with salt-and-pepper hair dragging Julian out of the water and onto a lowered three-foot-square platform. Levianath followed the rope the platform was attached to and noted that it hooked around a pulley-like device up on a beam above deck. Almost like a lift of some sort.

Levianath, not wanting to get left behind, swam back over to the platform just as the man turned back around for him. The man held out his forearm, and Levianath gripped it and was promptly pulled out of the water. The man tugged on the rope, and the platform began to raise.

The human looked at Levianath in the face for the first time, and reacted as if he'd just been shot. He stumbled back and almost fell off the platform, but then got his bearings by grabbing onto the center rope.

"Blimey! What are _you_ doin' on a cargo ship all the way down in Tanaris?" the man exploded.

Levianath blinked. He was entirely, one hundred percent positive that he had never encountered this man in his life. But before he got a chance to respond, the platform reached the deck, and suddenly at least six pairs of hands helped the three down. There was a lot of talking, shouting, shoving, and Levianath mostly just did his best not to lose sight of Julian as the two were bustled over to the opposite side of the deck. Julian, still weak, sat down immediately against the wall, so Levianath followed suit, sitting right next to him.

Levianath could pick up a few words thrown in here and there. 'What's he doing here?' seemed to be a common one. It seemed as if everyone knew _him_, but he knew no one. However, he was simply relieved to have a solid floor beneath his feet, and he let his head fall back against the wall he leaned on. He didn't particularly care what happened to him and Julian now. These were pirates; Levianath and Julian had nothing on themselves, nothing of value. As long as these people weren't also slavers, he honestly wasn't too worried. They'd either dump them here in Tanaris or, if he was lucky, back in the Eastern Kingdoms.

...Or they'd kill him, which was undesirable, but what control did he have over that now?

He heard a louder voice cut in.

"Move over," the voice said, sounding almost like a young boy. "Scooch. Coming through. Rodney, move your big ass and let me through."

Levianath lifted a brow and brought his head forward again, searching for the owner of the voice. Suddenly, a boy pushed through between two fairly large men, and immediately his inky-brown eyes fell on Levianath. Levianath lifted both brows. He couldn't tell, actually, if this was a boy or a girl. Dark, scruffy hair and a dirt-smudged face, lanky posture and tattered clothing, it could easily be a very boyish girl. On the other hand, it could also be a girly boy. He/she looked to be about sixteen either way.

The kid pushed his (her? his.) way in front of Levianath and dropped down to one knee, now eye-level. He cocked his head. What was said next made Levianath's spine suddenly tingle with a mixture between eerie suspicion and surprise.

"Darkrunner?" the kid questioned, brows raising. Even the voice could be feminine.

Levianath's eyes widened, and he swallowed. "How do you know my name?"

The kid scoffed, and everyone around him laughed as well.

"Very funny, Captain," the kid laughed, standing up, holding a hand out to help Levianath stand as well. "Your ship has missed you."

* * *

**PPWWWHAHAAAAAT?!**


	7. Impostor

**Hey! It's been a while! Sorry!  
**

**Update for review responses:**

**Kintaraheart: It does, it does! And it's okay to be an impatient brat; I always am too with other people's stories. ;D**

**Noriana26: OMG! I can't wait for what comes next of Dawnseeker. :) **

**NyteKnight: Aye, that it has. :D :D**

**Zarabethe: You and your predictions... My sis and I always chuckle at how accurate you are. x)**

**Willowstar157: THATS WHAT EVERYONE ELSE IS WONDERING TOO!**

**psalty: It could be useful, but too bad what's-her-face decided to book it straight to Stranglethorn and find the 'real' captain. xD**

**LadyRaftina: That is actually a really interesting idea..! And Julian and Lev are glad, too... ;)**

* * *

As soon as Levianath had been helped up by the teen, he felt a hand grab his forearm and tug him backward, straight into what he deduced was the captain's cabin. The door was shut abruptly, and he heard shouts of complaints outside, but no real opposition came. Stunned, he blinked a few times, noting that it was almost dark in there save for a rusty light filtering through dark red, thick curtains on both sides of the walls. A lamp was lit behind him, and the second he turned around, he found himself face-to-face with the point of a knife.

Behind that knife was a face, level with his own. A woman with pale lavender skin, vivid royal blue hair, and small, almost nonexistent tusks peeking out of the corners of her lips glared daggers into his emerald stare. Her eyes were as pure blue as her hair as they pinned him there against the wall.

"Who are you?" her demand was cold, though her voice itself was lilted in a way that could be pleasant in another situation. Levianath grimaced as she brought the knife even closer to him, leaning so close he caught the scent of the sea on her clothing. Her voice darkened to a growl. "And if you say 'Darkrunner', this blade will take your tongue, impostor." Her nose crinkled. "You reek of fel magic. Is it the source of your disguise?"

He clenched his jaw and let a sigh out through his nose, regarding her with a dark stare, speaking in a mocking tone. "Which question would you like me to answer first?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What is your name?"

"Levianath," he retorted confidently. "Levianath _Darkrunner_," he cocked his head snidely as he said his surname.

He saw her grind her teeth. "Your first mistake of impersonating our captain is giving your first name. He has never revealed his own."

Levianath just began to laugh. "I'm not impersonating _anybody_," he lifted a finger up and moved the knife away from his neck, and she seemed surprised at the bold action. He stepped forward, forcing her to take a step backward, and in a fit of what appeared to be panic, she quickly jammed the blade back to its place at his throat. He didn't flinch.

"What are you doing here, then?" she hissed, glaring, and he caught a hint of fear under her voice, though her stance was confident. Why was she so afraid of him?

"Where do I even start?" the half-elf let out a partial laugh. "I was enslaved on that ship until you attacked it."

She just donned a confused look, no words forming at her mouth. Again, Levianath directed the knife away from his neck with his index finger.

"I'm not trying to fight you," he said calmly. "I don't think a knife is necessary. I've no business with pirates. If you want to kill me, go ahead. I'm half-dead already."

Her vivid eyes simply pinned him there for a good ten seconds. Exhausted, Levianath couldn't help it and interrupted the interrogation with a wide yawn, and he covered his mouth with a fist in an attempt to stave it. His exhausted state seemed to catch the woman off-guard, and she watched him skeptically, confusion plastered on her face. Outside the door, he heard voices rise and loud raucous laughter, and he quirked a brow curiously, but ultimately kept his attention on the woman before him. He stretched his sore arms out before speaking again.

"I think our objectives are actually quite similar," his voice was tired. "You clearly don't want me here, and I don't want to be here. I'm perfectly fine with you just dropping my friend and me off at the nearest port; we can find our own way home."

"And where is 'home'? Why are you disguised as our captain? How did you find this ship?"

He sighed. "Lady, I will answer all of your questions once I don't feel like I'm about to collapse. I haven't gotten a decent night's rest in weeks, and I could do with a meal. If you'd provide that, Julian and I can be the most cooperative people on this planet."

The laughter outside became louder, and it sounded, if he wasn't mistaken, like people were singing.

The woman's brows tightened as she completely ignored the sounds outside. "You are asking a lot from someone holding you at knife point, shark."

He rolled his eyes. "You going to threaten me? Fine. Go ahead. I can't very well fight back now, can I? All I ask is for a little hospitality."

She studied him for a prolonged silence, and then finally withdrew the blade. "You will answer all of my questions?"

"I will do my very best." His tone was patronizing, which he could tell it pushed her buttons. Good.

She cocked her head at him. "This disguise... Is it magic? Are you actually human? Your facade is poorly-done; your ears give you away."

Levianath allowed a smirk. "I am half human. This is no disguise. Whoever it is you think I am impersonating, you're wrong. I know nothing of this ship nor its captain."

"Half human?" her blue eyes squinted in thought, and then a look of realization flickered into place. She studied him closely. "Do you know your parents?"

Levianath blinked at the odd question. "No, neither. My mother died early, and my father was absent."

"But do you know who your father _was_?" she asked, but Levianath just sighed and cut her off.

"No, I don't. And I told you I'd answer your questions _after_ replenishing my strength."

She sheathed her knife from where she'd been holding it by her side, and she reached out and took his arm just above the elbow. "I'll set you up with something to eat, then." She peered at him. She was tall; as tall as him, tall for a troll. Perhaps she too was a hybrid; she did not appear to be full-blooded. Half elf, half troll maybe?

She continued. "I don't want the crew getting all worked up over your identity when I don't have any answers yet. So until I get everything figured out, according to the crew, you are our captain. Understand?" The look she gave him was firm, and he nodded.

"I'd say now's the best time for me to ask you who _you_ are," he said before she could leave. He smirked tauntingly, though unintentionally so. "If I am the captain, I should know my crew."

Her glare was disconcerting; he'd never seen such an intense look on anyone other than himself.

"Fiammetta Evenstar," she said bluntly. "I am, for your information, first mate of this ship. I run it while the captain is away. The crewmembers will not notice your disguise; they rarely see the captain in person for prolonged periods of time, unlike myself. They will not notice the subtle differences."

With that, she offered no further conversation and turned away. As she took the latch on the door and pulled it open, they were both blasted with the last few lyrics of song.

"-EARLY IN THE MORNING!" Levianath recognized Julian's voice shouting the lyrics, and then suddenly everyone standing out on the deck burst into chorus: "Weigh heigh and up she rises! Weigh heigh and up she rises! Weigh heigh and up she rises, early in the morning!"

Levianath finally saw Julian as the people started to sing; he was grinning ear to ear, singing extremely off-key along with the others, looking like a half-drowned dog just happy to be alive. One sailor had his giant arm looped over Julian's neck and was singing the words to the song jubilantly, while many of the others who were tying the sails sang along while they worked.

Levianath blinked a few times, jaw slightly dropping open, and he took in the sight for a few more seconds as the song came to an end, with everyone holding the last note and cheering. A few of the sailors saw Levianath and shouted the word 'captain' in a sort of praise. Julian caught sight of Levianath and tugged out of the one sailor's hold, his grin remaining in place. He walked with a bit of a stumble, and Levianath noted that the kid's eyes were drooping as a sign of exhaustion.

Julian's voice was gleeful, and quite loud. "I have never been so tired in my life!" he shouted eagerly, laughing again and wobbling a little off balance. "And I once slept for an entire year! True story!"

The surrounding sailors all roared with laughter at Julian's mannerisms.

The boy threw his arms to the sides, looking up at the ship's flag. "Where did you find this ship? This one is so much better than the one you exploded!" He stumbled a few steps closer, and held a hand up to his mouth to give the illusion of telling a secret. "Also, I'm pretty sure we just got caught by pirates."

Levianath stared a second longer, and he shook his head incredulously. "How the hell are you standing right now?"

The redheaded elf burst into laughter, almost as if drunk, but Levianath knew it was all due to sleep deprivation. Julian glanced behind himself, apparently saw something that entertained him, and then pointed at a man sitting across the deck. "Whoa! He likes oranges, too!" Julian exclaimed, and Levianath followed the boy's direction to see a man who was indeed eating an orange. Julian looked so proud of his observation, and he regarded Levianath with generous excitement. "You two have _so much_ in common! Can you _believe_ it?"

"Julian," Levianath said, now unable to keep a smirk from forming at one corner of his mouth. The poor kid was out of his mind with malnutrition, dehydration and sleep deprivation. "I will give you a choice: would you like to eat and then sleep, or sleep and then eat? Our lovely first mate here is supplying accommodations for us."

Julian made a 'duh' face. "Eat first, always." He swayed a little where he stood, possibly from the motion of the ship in the water, but most likely due to his loopy state. "I don't really remember what food tastes like," he grimaced.

Levianath rolled his eyes at the kid's dramatics and glanced over at Fiammetta, who had been watching the two's exchange with skeptical eyes. Levianath sighed.

"He needs hydration, nutrition, and sleep."

"Clearly," the woman agreed with distaste. "Bring him into the captain's cabin; I will have our cabin boy fetch food. And then you will answer my questions."

Levianath stepped forward and took Julian by the shoulder, directing him toward the cabin. He closed the door behind himself, which was surprisingly decent at blocking sound, so that when it was closed, all that could be heard was muffled voices instead of the constant, loud drone of people interacting. Obviously it was still loud, but not remotely as bad.

Levianath set Julian down in an antique-looking armchair that was nailed to the floor in the corner of the room. Set into the wall was a bed, almost like an inverted shelf, and strewn about the cabin's surfaces were countless layers of parchments and scrolls and writing materials and maps. The lamp was still lit that Fiammetta had ignited, and it cast flickering shadows across the room.

Levianath walked about to observe the various papers and after a few beats glanced back at Julian, only to see that the boy had his head lolled to the side and was out cold. Levianath smirked and sighed.

"Me, too, kid," Levianath murmured to himself, lifting up one paper to look at a roughly-sketched map underneath. He felt absolutely exhausted, and his thoughts were scattered, but for some reason he didn't feel in danger on this ship. That looming feeling of doom he'd had for weeks was absent, and this alone boosted his energy enough to keep him sane. He was tired, but he wouldn't sleep right now. What's-her-face, Fiammetta, would be back any moment with food and questions, and Levianath was determined to get both of those over with before he let himself rest.

He could, he thought to himself, technically, summon his imp right now. Pip'tai's portals had a radius of about one or two miles, which would be useless once they were far out at sea, but the creature hadn't been summoned in weeks. Technically, the creature could show up on his own if he truly wanted to, but Levianath suspected that Pip'tai either had no clue what had been going on these past few weeks, or possibly he'd just been avoiding it all on purpose. He was a demon, after all, and despite him being bound to Levianath, as long as Levianath wasn't dying, Pip'tai most likely preferred to sit it out. The less work, the better, in the demon's eyes.

Levianath ended up nixing the idea of summoning his 'friend'. At least, for right now. Maybe once he'd had some decent rest, he could do it easier, and the spell wouldn't drain so much out of him.

The door creaked open, and Levianath saw that same kid who'd first called him Captain waltz in with an armful of food, along with a tin platter of what looked like boiled potatoes. Levianath lifted a brow.

"Potatoes?" he asked curiously, and the kid nodded.

"Aye, Cap'n, you know Cook loves her potatoes," the skinny teen said, flipping his (her?) hair to the side and then letting the armful of food spill out onto the table: lots of fruit, and what looked like dried meats.

Levianath stared at the kid, trying to find a definitive feature to mark his gender. Finally, he just decided to go for it.

"What's your name again?" Levianath asked after a second of staring at the gender-neutral kid.

The kid turned and sent him a peculiar look. "You really forgot? It's only been a few months, Cap. The name's Reece Black, but the crew call me Urchin. Don't really know why; I don't have a lot in common with the sea creatures, truly." The kid sniffed. "I ain't prickly, either."

Levianath sighed, internally grumbling to himself. The name, for goodness' sake, was neutral. He gritted his teeth, preparing for a poor reaction to his following question.

"Forgive me," Levianath began uncomfortably, 'but I am becoming increasingly curious as to whether your name is a boy's name, or a girl's."

The kid paused, then stared at Levianath for an extended silence (most likely only five seconds, but felt like much longer), and suddenly burst out laughing.

"You're asking me if I'm a boy or a girl?! Captain, you already know my story," the kid chortled playfully. "I'm a girl. But remember, please don't tell the crew."

"You mean the crew doesn't know?" Levianath lifted his brows.

Reece began to look slightly suspicious. "Far as they know, I'm a seventeen-year-old runaway boy from Redridge Mountains."

Levianath stared at her. "And what are you truly?"

"A seventeen-year-old runaway girl from Redridge Mountains," Reece smirked, then cocked her head. "You really forgot all of that?" He caught an underlying tone that showed she was slightly hurt.

Levianath cleared his throat. "No, I didn't actually forget; I was just fact-checking you," he said calmly. "You passed."

Reece's face brightened again, and suddenly everything was totally fine. "Good to know. Need anything else, Captain?"

"Fresh water, and lots of it," Levianath suggested. Reece nodded quickly.

"Sure thing," she piped, and slid back out the door.

Levianath picked up the least-bruised apple he could find and was pleased that it was still acceptably fresh. He took a bite, relishing its sweetness that contrasted the smell of salt in the air and the leftover aftertaste of saltwater from the ocean. Before long, Reece returned with another armful, this time of canteens of water. She set them out on the table, and Levianath couldn't help but smile at her helpfulness.

"Thank you, Miss Black," he nodded at her and took a canteen, uncorked it, and downed it.

She sent him an odd glance. "You've never called me that before."

His eyes flicked to her as he drank, and then he capped the canteen. "What would you like me to call you?"

"Um, whatever you prefer, I guess."

"And what would I normally call you?"

She just stared at him. "More fact-checking?"

He simply sent her a partial smirk, then looked back down at the canteen. "Reece it is."

She brightened, grinning widely, and her eyes traveled around the room. They fell on Julian, who was still out cold.

"Who is he?" she asked curiously.

Levianath thought for a long pause, unsure of what to say. "A friend," he finally murmured. With that statement, he felt an unfamiliar seedling of warmth settle into his mind. This was the first person in his life he truly considered in such a way. Julian was his _friend_.

Reece walked to Julian carefully, her steps seeming light and silent. In a way that could to some be described as entertaining, she folded her hands behind her back and leaned her torso sideways until her face was at the same angle as Julian's; his head was tilted down toward the floor, and her hair followed gravity as she stared at the boy.

"He's too pretty to be a pirate," she announced suddenly, standing upright again. "Not a scratch on him, save for the calluses on his hands and shackle cuts on his wrists. Where'd you find this kid, Darkrunner?"

"This is going to sound wildly unoriginal, but Julian actually found me," Levianath smirked.

Reece rocked back and forth on her feet for a few beats, and then looked over at the bed. "Does he have to sleep in this chair? He looks so uncomfortable."

Levianath shrugged. "I suppose a bed would be better."

Reece immediately responded by walking around behind Julian and looping her arms under his and grabbing hold around his chest. She nodded her head toward his feet. "Help me carry him?"

Levianath hid a smirk at how funny that looked; the girl was so puny in comparison to the night elf she was attempting to pick up. Even with how tall the human was, Julian had her beaten in every aspect. His arms were twice the size of hers, and _he_ was skinny. This was one of the first times Levianath noticed how big the kid really was. Took after his father, apparently.

Levianath took the boy's feet, and in a team effort, the two of them managed to get him into the bed and put a blanket over him. The half-elf then sighed.

"He'll be hungry when he wakes; he hasn't eaten in a long time. I don't know how he was functioning out there on the deck, let alone singing."

Reece snickered. "He's a terrible singer."

Their conversation was interrupted when the door swung open again, and Fiammetta walked in. The troll-elf shooed Reece out of the room, and then motioned toward the table and chairs near the door.

"Sit, and let us talk," she requested. Her tone now was far less demanding than before.

Levianath did as she'd asked and pulled out a seat for himself, then slumped down in it halfheartedly. He'd promised her answers, and here he was, grudgingly prepared to comply, despite his mind having to work exponentially harder than usual to form conscious thoughts.

She sat across from him and stared at him for a few beats. "Your name is Levianath?"

"Yes. I am from Stormwind City, but for the past few years I've been traveling basically anywhere I can hitchhike a free ride."

"And you said you do not know who your father is?"

"No, I don't. Why do you keep asking that?"

She cocked her head. Levianath almost caught a trace of a smile. "I'm asking the questions here, shark."

"Shark?" he managed a tired smirk. That was the second time she'd called him that.

"It is what you are, is it not? I have heard of people like you. Captains of rival ships or guilds infiltrating another through disguise. I'm just shocked you thought Darkrunner would be a good idea."

Levianath sighed in defeat, leaning his chin in his elbow. His eyes drooped. If he had the energy right now, he'd talk her ears off and explain as much as he could, but his thoughts were becoming jumbled with his exhaustion.

What's-her-face said something again, but he didn't catch it. His limbs felt like lead, as did his eyelids, and in just a few seconds, the man was blissfully asleep.

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

It was his stomach that woke him, and he sat up abruptly, only to be met with something hard colliding with his forehead with the action. He winced and audibly grunted, blinking up at what he'd hit his head on. He looked around. He was in some sort of oddly-comfortable nook, like a bed. His eyes stung as they opened and closed, still exhausted, and every single muscle in his body ached stiffly.

His barren stomach complained again, feeling as if it were twisting itself into a knot. He felt weak, shaky, and his sight was blurred, but one sense overpowered the rest almost painfully: his sense of smell.

He could smell food nearby, and he stood uneasily, wobbling over to what appeared to be a table covered in fruit. He vaguely noticed a sleeping form on the ground near the windows on the far end, but ignored it. His mouth was watering as he regarded the food; he'd never seen something so...perfect. And even better, he noted as he sat down at the table, was that he also saw what he deduced was some form of peppered jerky. To top all of that off was a canteen brimming with fresh, sweet water.

He downed it all in a matter of minutes; every last bit to his own surprise, and even when he was done, his stomach still shouted for more. He still felt dizzy and weak, but that horrible gnawing pain in his stomach was gone, and he felt indescribably better already. He stood, making his way to the door, and after a few failed attempts at working the latch, he finally swung it open.

He'd expected sunlight, but was met with the opposite. Cool, blue moonlight trickled down and blanketed the entire deck of the ship. Sails fluttered in the wind, their red color looking black against the night sky, and every direction he looked was all open ocean. The waves were constant, slight swells that kept the ship in a rhythm.

Deckhands who were working glanced over at Julian's arrival and sent him silent greetings. He returned with waves, not recognizing any of them but pleased with their friendliness, and peered around, wondering where he could find more to eat. Although what he'd already consumed was enough for two meals for a normal person, Julian had already come to the conclusion that he was very much not a normal person, and he recalled what his mother had once told him of how by the time he was thirteen, he ate as much as (or possibly more than) his own father ate on a daily basis.

Basically, Julian ate a lot - and constantly. So having gone this long without eating, it had been hell for him, far worse than anything else he'd experienced to this point.

"Hey! It's the songbird himself!" Julian heard a boyish voice call out, and he turned, recognizing its owner as the cabin boy. Julian smirked and rolled his eyes slightly, turning toward the lanky teen.

"If I barely remember it, can we pretend it didn't happen?" he laughed.

The kid had dirt smudged on his chin and under one eye, and dimples formed on his freckly cheeks when he grinned and shook his head. "That's never a good out. You have the voice of a nightingale."

Julian snickered when he caught the sarcasm. "That bad?"

The kid jokingly stuck his fingers in his ears, and Julian smirked. The boy held out his hand to shake.

"Reece Black," he announced, and Julian shook his hand.

"Julian," he replied, unsure of whether to surrender his surname or not, but Reece didn't request it anyways.

Julian's stomach audibly growled, and Reece lifted his brows.

"Want some chow?"

Julian shrugged. "I already ate everything in the cabin, but apparently that wasn't enough."

Reece gained a look of appreciation. "Hey, you like to eat. I can respect that."

With that, Julian was led below deck, passing a lot of people who stared at him, some friendlier than others, some recognizing him as 'songbird'. Apparently he'd made an impression in his half-hallucinating state of malnutrition, which was even still affecting him now. He hadn't truly accepted the idea that he was on a pirate ship, and said pirates were not forcing him into any form of labor or selling him or, even worse, killing him on the spot. In all honesty, he wasn't _sure_ that these even were pirates in the first place.

He was given some form of dried meat and more boiled potatoes, which he began to practically inhale. Reece sat across from him, staring at him as he ate. After his third helping, Reece grimaced.

"You're going to make yourself sick by eating this much, you know?"

Julian shrugged, speaking through a mouthful. "I don't care."

A few beats passed.

Reece cleared his throat. "If nothing else, you'll probably get fat."

"Good. I want to be fat."

"That's dumb," Reece laughed playfully.

"You're dumb," Julian retorted without pause, glancing up at the dirty, heavily-freckled face across from him. Reece's inky eyes locked on his in a staredown, but then Julian won when Reece reached down and retrieved a canteen of water, handing it across the broken wooden tabletop. Julian downed it in a matter of seconds.

Reece cocked his head. "How long did you go without eating anyway?"

Julian shrugged, taking another large bite. "I ate once a day for a few weeks; some days were skipped. By the end, I just stopped altogether. Couldn't eat, really. It made me sick." He took another drink, and finished his plate. Finally, he looked back up at Reece.

"How long have you been on this ship?" he asked the human.

"Four years."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

Julian squinted his eyes. "You look a lot younger than that. You're too skinny. Maybe _you_ should get fat."

Reece looked defensive. "Well how old are _you_?"

"Eighteen," Julian said smugly.

"You look younger than that, too," Reece folded his arms.

Julian stared at the boy again, and then finally shrugged, grinning. "Why thank you. Elf perk, probably. So how long did I sleep?" It had felt like a few hours, but Julian in particular wasn't the best judge of time these days.

"Three days," Reece said simply. "We tried to get some food in you a few times, but you were out cold. We worried you wouldn't wake up. And Captain Darkrunner has been the same, though he did eat before he fell asleep that first day. What was the captain doing on the slavers' ship, by the way?"

"You mean Levianath?" Julian asked hesitantly.

Reece gave him a blank look. "Who?"

"The elf you rescued with me? The one you keep calling captain?"

Reece's eyes widened to saucers. "You know the captain's name?"

"Well, I know that 'Captain Darkrunner' is called Levianath."

Reece suddenly lit up, grinning ear to ear, and Julian just watched him. The boy did _not_ look the age he had reported. He was too...delicate, somehow. Julian couldn't put his finger on it.

Reece leaned in. "Did you tell any of the other crew?"

"No, should I have?"

He shook his head. "Nope, definitely not." He continued to grin. "I can't believe I now know the captain's first name!"

Julian just blinked, giving him a confused look, and then shook his head as well. What a weird kid. Why did everyone think Levianath was captain? What was going on? He then got a sudden, suspicious thought. _Was_ Levianath their captain?

* * *

By morning, the ship had nearly reached its destination. Which, apparently, was the bustling port of Booty Bay. The bay was visible on the horizon, and as Julian sat out near the edge of the ship's deck, he watched silently it as it slowly rose out of the sea with the progression of the ship.

Julian had ended up pulling an all-nighter in the company of Reece; the two argued most of their time together, but it was an entertaining banter that Julian enjoyed; it was almost like talking to a mirror. Reece and him were so similar, and so different, too, and Julian appreciated the kid's approach on the world. Reece had a level of genuine optimism that Julian didn't see very often, and it was nice to experience it from someone other than himself for a change.

Julian and Reece sat with their feet dangling over the edge of the railing. At first, Julian had been hesitant to sit so precariously close to the edge, but Reece had talked him into it, and he was glad. It was definitely one of the best places to sit out of the whole thing. He could see the deep blue water surge beneath them, the waves lapping at the sides of the boat, and on occasion, he saw dolphins and at one point when the sun had just barely begun to peek over the horizon, a whale had surfaced.

His mind traveled to his worries; he needed to contact his family now more than ever. How long had it been, a month now? More? And what about Lily? He recalled that Goblin boss saying something about her being at another camp. It was a wonder that Levianath and Julian hadn't been separated in all this time.

Apparently Julian's frown was more evident than he'd intended, because Reece gave him a look and spoke up.

"What's eatin' ya?" Reece pried, "If you don't mind me asking."

"I need to get a letter out somehow," Julian murmured.

"Really? I can show you how," Reece said enthusiastically, sliding back off of the railing and onto his feet. "It's easy."

Julian quirked a brow. "You can send letters from this ship?"

Reece grinned that trademark, impish smile that Julian had familiarized with in so little time. "C'mon."

Julian followed after the skinny teen, off to a level below deck, and into a small room filled with scrolls and quills. A single window let some light in through its foggy yellowed panes. The raggedy kid pulled out a thin parchment and an inkwell and slopped them down onto a wooden desk, then motioned for Julian to sit in the vacant seat in front of it.

"Here ya go. Write your letter, and then I'll show you how to send it."

Julian took the quill. He had to be concise with his wording, as the paper wasn't all _that_ big.

_Mom, _

_First off, I'm alive. Levianath and I were taken into forced labor at a Goblins' excavation camp in Stranglethorn Vale. We managed to escape, but now we are both currently in the hands of pirates. They're feeding us, at least. And they're letting me send this letter, which is a good sign. They think Levianath is someone he's not, and he's getting special treatment. Me, too, by extension.  
We want to come home. I know Dad is good at diplomacy; he could help without making things violent, right?  
We're just about to arrive at Booty Bay, and I'm hoping they will allow Levianath and me to leave. _

_I love you and miss you. Maybe see you soon._

_-Julian_

_P.S.: I think Lily is in a different camp. We need to find her._

A smudge of ink found its way at the bottom of the paper, but Julian didn't care. He wasn't looking for neatness; he just wanted this to go to his mother as soon as possible.

He looked up at Reece, who had been sitting on the desk and fiddling with a feather quill while Julian wrote. He handed the letter to Reece, who, without even reading it, fanned it for a moment to dry and then folded it in half.

"Address it normally."

Julian did just that. The kid glanced up at Julian, then stood from the desk and pointed toward an odd contraption.

"That's our mailbox," Reece announced brightly, taking the letter again.

Julian lifted a brow. "Is it connected to the nexus?"

Reece nodded. "It'll appear at whichever mailbox your intended recipient checks first."

Julian grinned. "I'm impressed. How'd you manage it?"

"It's high-tech and complicated. Engineers made it; I doubt you'd understand it any more than I do."

"And what if I would? I've had two years' worth of engineering training."

Reece smiled. "You're full of surprises, songbird. Got any money on you?"

Julian shook his head. Normally, I would. It was taken.

"I'll spot you the postage just this once," Reece piped, attaching a handful of silvers to a tube-like contraption and then stuffing the letter inside as well. He inserted it into the mailbox, and off it went.

They heard raised voices upstairs as they felt the ship come to a slowed speed, and it then stopped completely, save for its sway on the water. Reece looked back at Julian.

"Sounds like we're here," he said enthusiastically. Julian swallowed. Did this mean he could go home?

Reece reached out and took Julian by the arm, tugging him along behind.

"I do, though, wonder why we are in Booty Bay in the first place," the cabin boy mused mostly to himself. "We were supposed to be in Tanaris until October while Captain worked an angle here against the Saltsprocket dig sites."

"Saltsprocket," Julian said abruptly. "That sounds familiar."

Reece nodded. "Same people who had you on that ship before it exploded. We've been going after them for some time. They've taken more than their share of our men and women for their work."

They both heard the voices upstairs become even louder, and Julian saw Reece frown as he looked around at the emptiness below deck.

"Something's up," the boy said in a low tone. "Everyone's upstairs. C'mon."

Julian was practically dragged up the steps to the deck, and he nearly stumbled twice before finding his footing, bumping into Reece as they surfaced. Reece had paused mid-step, and Julian peered at him in confusion, perplexed by the look of shock on his face. He followed his gaze, and then he too let his mouth drop open.

Standing at one end of the deck was Levianath, dressed in the rags he'd been rescued in, but looking better than he had in a while. The sleep and food had done him well. He stood straighter, his skin looked healthier, and his eyes burned a pure green. He must have found some way to replenish his fel energy recently.

However, at the other end of the deck stood an elf whose appearance gave Julian the impression of seeing double. A tall, slender, swarthy Blood Elf man stood facing Levianath, his bright green eyes practically burning in their intensity. He was dressed in dark leather pants, a pair of tall, buckled boots, and a blood-red tunic that hung loosely from his arms and showed a good amount of his chest. He wore a single silver chain around his neck, and his jet black hair was pulled back in a low tail. Various weapons hung from a decorative belt at his hips, as did a few from a one-shoulder harness he wore over his chest.

Julian stared. It _was_ Levianath, but at the same time, not quite. His ears stood taller, and his eyes were slightly more angled, more elf-like. The redhead stared as the not-quite Levianath took a single, liquid step forward, staring at Levianath.

"I am Captain Darkrunner. This is my ship," he said in a smooth, sly tone as his arms spread out to his sides, swords pointing outward, and Julian was shocked at how close his voice was to Levianath's. Were they brothers? They had to be.

The man then twirled one sword in his fingers until it was somehow gracefully brought into a direct point straight toward Levianath. He cocked his head, "And you," he said to Levianath, eyes flashing with a hint of curiosity, "are an impostor."

* * *

***ahem***

**We will see a certain familiar red-headed Rogue soon. **


	8. Honesty

**Whoa it's been so long, you guys. Two whole weeks long. I'm so sorry for the wait!**

**Responses: **

**Chelinka: High speed dragon chase? Now that sounds fun as hell xD I'll have to send that suggestion on to Levianath and his merry band. And pfft yeah, old gods are the root of all shenanigans... And also hot chocolate for the win. I'm so jealous.**

**NyteKnight: Okay so I looked up Sportive Tricks and WOW are they awesome and entertaining. Love it. And yes! Reece is totally a Mary Read. :D And I saw that you sort of figured out the troll/elf. ;)**

**Willowstar157: I read that review to my sister and she couldn't stop laughing. That was awesome. xD AND YOU'RE GONNA HATE THIS CLIFFHANGER, MAN.**

**Zarabethe: Julian and Reece, sittin' in a tree, K.I.S.S.I.S.S.I.P.P.I. ...Wait. (Okay I stole that joke from Andy Dwyer of Parks and Rec but shhhh.)**

**Psalty: Uh oh is right!**

**LadyRaftina: Oooh we'll get Reece's story and then some pretty darn soon. :D And Lev _does_ convince him... Mwahaha. **

* * *

Levianath fiddled with a string on his frayed tunic, paying little attention to anything. For the past thirty hours or so, he'd been dozing in and out as he rested in one of the spacious cells below deck. The first thing the _real_ Captain Darkrunner had done was arrest both men. At least they weren't chained, though, and they were immediately supplied with plenty food and water and bedding from a very curious and talkative Reece Black.

When the two had initially been thrown in the cells, Reece had immediately gotten to work with the questions. As much as Levianath tried to sit in silence, he could not however entirely ignore the chatter going on between the two nearby.

Reece had sat cross-legged on the floor with her hands holding the bars of Julian's cell, and she'd rested her forehead between two of the vertical iron poles, pelting Julian with constant questions of which he couldn't possibly have answers to. 'How come there are two identical captains?' was a popular one Levianath had heard about three times now, just with a slight variation of word choice. Even though the captain had arrested them both, Reece didn't seem to view either of them as a threat. Or, if she did, she didn't show it; her curiosity had won over.

Now, though, after a full day and night had passed (at least, according to Reece, it had), Levianath was about ready to take a pistol to his head. He'd noticed that in such a short time span, Reece had practically latched onto Julian. If she was bored, she came to the redheaded teen. If she was bored, she talked.

Apparently she was always bored.

If Levianath had been the target of the questions and the talk and the little games of I-spy and riddles, he would have snapped at the girl and told her to scram twenty-nine hours ago, Julian was on the contrary just as into it as Reece. Julian was also sitting on the floor across from the girl, answering every question she had earnestly and sharing speculations and ideas. Levianath had heard Julian say maybe the captain and he were brothers. Levianath could only pray that wasn't the case. His experiences with brothers had never been good, and being arrested by this so-called 'brother number three' would only solidify his hatred of the concept of family even further.

Levianath watched the two out of the corner of his eye and wondered to himself if Julian had discovered that Reece was a girl yet. Probably not, he thought, seeing as he himself only caught it because he's the most observant person he knows when it comes to people.

When the point of his insanity had already passed its all-time high, finally Levianath was brought up to the captain's cabin. Although he feared what would meet him there, anything was better than being in that cell beside the two who never quit talking.

While he was escorted up by a few pirate-y looking deckhands, he noticed that everyone stared at him. Some eyes were filled with confusion, others amusement, and some even with anger or hatred. Upon entering the cabin, the two holding him shoved him into a chair, but immediately, he caught a commanding voice that split through the air, the voice of the captain.

"Untie him," the captain ordered, and the two followed without hesitation.

Levianath stretched his arms out, and the captain came into view and stood across from him, the room's large wooden table being the only thing separating the two of them. Levianath finally stole a moment to really stare at the man, and even he had to admit it was frightening how similar they looked. It was obvious they had differences, but those differences were solely due to the fact that the captain was evidently full elf and Levianath was only half. They even looked like they could be the same age, if not for the weathered look to the captain's scars and scuffs. If nothing else, the scars can sometimes tell the story.

The troll-elf first mate appeared and sat down as well at the table. The captain pulled aside a chair, but instead of sitting on it, he hoisted one foot up, resting the base of his boot on the seat and leaning his elbow on his knee thoughtfully in a highly casual manner. He stared at Levianath for a good measure of time, expression unreadable, before finally reaching to his belt and retrieving a sharp, short knife. He immediately brought it to the wood of the table and began to carve little designs into it which Levianath couldn't see from his angle. However, now Levianath noticed the little carvings everywhere on the table and deduced that this wasn't an unusual activity for the man.

The captain spoke, not interrupting his own activity, which almost looked meditative.

"What is your name?"

"Levianath Darkrunner."

The captain paused, lifted his head, and squinted his fel green eyes. He repeated Levianath's name back to him in a question, and Levianath nodded. The captain thought for a second and just moved on to the next question, clearly not believing him. Levianath didn't blame him there; it was weird enough that they were identical, but they both had the same name? That was more than coincidence.

"How did you come to be on this ship?"

Levianath glanced at Fiammetta, having thought she'd have told the story already, but went ahead and spoke. "Well, funny story, actually," he explained. "The cargo ship I _was_ on exploded, and your guys rescued me."

"Exploded?" Darkrunner seemed more entertained than he should have been. Levianath nodded, and the captain suddenly took his knife and sank the tip of it into the table, abruptly appearing fed-up. "Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?" He tilted his head sternly.

Levianath shook his head after a moment of surprised hesitation. "Not at all, why?"

"So, you call yourself Darkrunner, and your first name just _happens_ to be an anagram of the name of my favorite ship, and you just _happen_ to look exactly like me, and you just so _happened_ to be on a ship that just _happened_ to have exploded?"

"Ah, mind explaining why that last part is so weird?" Levianath requested after a moment of shock. He could've sworn he then saw Fiammetta hide a smile.

A flicker of doubt crossed the captain's otherwise unreadable face. "You are unfamiliar with my unfortunate diminutive of 'Dynamite Darkrunner'?"

Levianath couldn't help but let an entertained smirk tug at his mouth, and only after he'd partially composed it did he allow himself to speak.

"Dyna-what?" His smile won out again, and he covered his mouth with his fist to hide it. "Do I want to know how you got that name?"

The captain ran a hand over his entire face, appearing withdrawn for a moment, and sighed. "We're getting off-track. Why do I always get off-track?" He glanced over at Fiammetta. "Is it just me?"

She sent him a mildly sympathetic smirk.

The captain looked back at Levianath. "So your name is Levianath Darkrunner, eh? Do please explain how you just happened to choose such a name."

"My mom gave it to me before she died, so I am told."

"You expect me to believe that you received that name at birth?" The captain finally sat down across from him, staring him down. "I don't believe you," he said after a prolonged silence. He looked at Fiammetta. "Fetch the truth salts for me, please?"

Fiammetta stood and walked across the room as Levianath tensed up.

"Truth salts?" Levianath asked. "Those are illegal."

"What about me gives you the idea that I follow any law?"**  
**

Levianath frowned. "I am telling you the truth. I'm twenty-four years old, born and raised on human turf, never encountered pirates or slavers in my life 'til last month."

The captain drummed his fingers on the table. "You said your mother gave you your name. What were your parents' names?"

"My mother's name was Josie Flint, as long as my human family are being truthful. And I never knew either of my fathers."

Darkrunner held a hand up when Fiammetta arrived with the salts, causing her to pause. Darkrunner kept his gaze on Levianath. "Your mother was Flintlock Josie?"

"Pardon?"

Darkrunner shared a look with Fiammetta. "Your mother is -was- Josie Flint?"

"So I'm told. You knew her?"

Levianath could've sworn he saw mischief flash across his doppelganger's face. "Something like that," the captain sighed. After a few seconds of thought, the captain seemed to make another connection. "This would explain your name, as well. My ship, when I knew Josie... it was called the Leviathan."

Levianath's brows fell low, and he frowned slightly. The coincidences here were almost painful.

However, Darkrunner then regarded Levianath with a skeptical stare, chin pointed downward and eyes cunning, intelligent, almost sly.

"But then again, this would be your perfect deception, your ideal scheme." His eyes trickled up to the first mate, and he then flicked two fingers in a 'come hither' motion. "Salts, please."

Levianath felt his face drain of blood; truth salts were not to be taken lightly. He couldn't imagine having his thoughts open for all to see; it was practically his foremost fear.

The captain took the vial from the Troll's hand, and then leaned forward across the table, studying Levianath closely.

"No harm in testing your ability to cater truth, am I wrong?"

Levianath swallowed and cleared his throat, stuttering slightly. "A-actually, yes, some harm."

One of the captain's long brows quirked up. "You have encountered this before?" he held up the vial.

"I have seen its effects on another." Levianath shook his head, eyeing the red-tinted vial. "You must know the salts don't just force their imbiber to speak; they force him to speak every thought in his head for what can be up to hours. Not to mention hallucinations. I don't exactly feel like experiencing that myself."

The captain stared at him for a moment, then wordlessly poured into two metal cups what appeared to be a dark crimson wine. He then took the vial, tipped it over one container, and allowed one single drop of the clear liquid to fall into the drink. He then handed it to Levianath.

"Drink," he ordered.

Levianath gritted his teeth, fingertips turning white against the metal cup. "And if I do not?"

In response the captain unsheathed one sword at his belt and held it out toward the unarmed half-elf in a blatant threat.

"In a choice between death or momentary delusion, which seems more practical? I supplied you with a single drop. Most men would be given at least five times that. I am being gracious. You may not even experience altered vision with such a small dose."

Levianath glanced over at the troll woman, who stood stoically at the corner of the table. She didn't make eye contact. He looked back at the captain, his gaze meeting the sharpened steel of the sword. He finally sighed.

"Delusion it is."

He reached out and took his drink, and very carefully, he took a small sip. He couldn't taste anything other than the wine, which in truth was more of a fruit juice than true wine. The captain smiled now, a genial expression despite the situation, and reached out for his own glass, lifting it up in a toast.

"To honesty," he said in a charming tone, and Levianath grimaced.

"To unnecessary psychotropic drug ingestion."

The captain's eyes flickered with humor as Levianath downed his glass easily, then let it clank against the tabletop as he set it down. He kept eye contact with his doppelganger, glaring intensely, though internally wondering how long it would take for the salts to activate.

The answer to that question didn't take long to follow. The captain leaned forward, resting his wrists against the edge of the table. His mouth formed a subtle smile.

"Now answer me truthfully: what is your real name?"

Levianath's mouth opened before he could stop it. "My name is Levianath Darkrunner."

Immediately, he snapped it shut once he regained a smidgen of control. He didn't care that he'd said his name, but he did care that he couldn't control that he did it. The captain's brows lifted subtly.

"And your mother?"

"Josie Flint, I think," he spoke unintentionally again. So, the salts were working on his tongue, and it was only a matter of time before his own mind fell into the trap as well. He felt panic start to set in.

"Truly?" the captain for the first time looked fazed, his face showing honest surprise. "You weren't lying?" It wasn't all that much of a question, more of an observation.

"No, I wasn't," Levianath's own ears could only partially pick up what he himself was saying now, and even those words sounded fuzzy and far away. He was slipping. He felt his mouth form more words. "This is rare. Truth is not at all my specialty."

The captain looked entertained. "And what _is_ your specialty?"

"Stealing, cheating," Levianath smirked darkly, allowing his thoughts to be heard. "Lying."

The captain studied him for a good ten quiet seconds, mouth finally forming a smile. "So you _are_ Josie Flint's boy..."

The first mate spoke up now, glancing at her captain. "You do know what this means, right?"

"Aye," the captain nodded. "Unless I'm wrong, which I rarely am..."

"-except for ten seconds ago," Levianath cut in.

Captain Darkrunner paused, amused eyes boring into Levianath's. "I do believe, Evenstar, you have just inadvertently brought me my heir."

Levianath immediately released a barking laugh. "Just my damned luck," he hissed harshly, falling back in his seat and letting out a sarcastic sneer even though he could barely think straight now. His deepest thoughts were beginning to flow from his mouth, and he couldn't do a thing about it. His eyes darkened in a glare. "You, sir, have just confirmed my motives behind hating anyone who falls under the category of 'family'. Figures that my first encounter with my own father involves him force-feeding me a truth serum."

The captain looked a bit surprised at Levianath's spiteful outburst, but otherwise didn't seem affected by it in the slightest.

A knock came at the door as an interruption of the exchange, and Fiammetta scooted her chair back, went to the door, and creaked it open. She shared a few quiet words with the person on the other side, and then closed it again. She looked at the captain.

"You were expecting someone at the Salty Sailor?"

Captain Darkrunner stood quickly. "Yes, yes I am." He sheathed his dagger, which had still been stuck in the table, and looked at Levianath while pausing for a second.

"Would you accompany me?" he requested after the pause. "I think my associate would be almost as entertained at your existence as I am."

Levianath just shrugged halfheartedly. "A tavern sounds like heaven." A month ago, he'd have grimaced at the idea of one, but over these past four weeks, his longing for that familiar buzz had become stronger and stronger.

He saw a subtle smirk tug at the man's lips, and the captain glanced over at Fiammetta beside him. "Apple didn't fall so far, did it?"

Fiammetta just lifted her brows in acknowledgement that he'd spoken, but didn't say anything. Levianath got the idea she wasn't one to speak more than what was absolutely necessary. In an odd way, it gave her more authority than it would if she filled silences with banter.

Levianath barely noticed that he was saying everything he thought, but then he heard the captain just laugh and walk out of the cabin.

Fiammetta stood, ignoring what Levianath had just unintentionally said about her, her expression remaining mostly stoic. Levianath couldn't help but admire her unconventional beauty. Her cool-colored skin was smooth as porcelain, despite the weathered look in her eyes, which were in their own way equally as unique.

He then realized he'd accidentally said that too, when her intense eyes suddenly bored into his. He thought for a second he almost detected a slight tinge of pink dusting her cheeks, but as soon as it was there, it was gone. She walked over to him and took his arm, pulled him up out of his chair, and wordlessly dragged him out the door. Everyone on deck froze what they were doing, all eyes falling on Levianath. Captain Darkrunner, calm as ever, held one hand up in a genial gesture, smiling warmly. The expression looked oddly genuine.

"My friends," he continued to smile, which caused many of the sailors to relax. "I'm pleased to see you all again. It's been far too long." He turned toward Levianath. "I know this looks strange to you, and you all deserve the truth-"

Levianath interrupted the captain. "He's my father," he said lightly, pointing a thumb toward the man. "Is it coincidence or irony? I don't know."

The captain, whose mouth was still open mid-sentence, closed his mouth and smirked for a second. "He is under the influence of truth salts." He said it almost like it was an excuse. "Anyway," he then hummed, "I will return soon enough. You all know your stations. I suggest you get to them."

The people just stared, blinking slowly between the two of them, and a few of them nodded.

"Aye, captain," said Reece Black, who was standing near the far doorway that led below deck. She'd leaned against the frame, crossing her arms.

This sparked a thought in Levianath's mind. "Oh, also," he said quietly. "You've imprisoned my friend. Mind if he sticks close to me instead? He's had enough time behind bars this past month. We both have. He doesn't deserve it."

Captain Darkrunner gave him a surprised look, and then turned his eyes to Reece. "Our other captive hasn't already been released?"

"You mean Julian?"

The captain nodded, and Reece shook her head.

"No, we never got orders to do so."

"Well then go on, bring him up here," the man laughed slightly. "See to it that he eats. He looked a bit thin. Then meet us in the Salty Sailor Tavern."

The cabin boy gave a small salute, and Levianath had little choice but to follow his new-found father.

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

"He's his dad?"

Reece nodded in response to the question as Julian attempted to stand from his awkward sitting position where his back was against the wall. Julian's clumsiness was not to be taken lightly, especially when on a ship. Of course, he wasn't as clumsy as he was a year ago, but if ever there were a contest between him and a drunken monkey, he still might win.

After a labored scuffle, Julian finally stood with the help of Reece, who'd grabbed him by the wrist and put all of his body weight into pulling Julian up. Reece spoke up as Julian followed after him.

"That's what they said. And I believe it. Levianath spoke more on that deck than he has in the past few days. I think I heard the captain say they have him on truth salts right now."

"What're truth salts?" Julian asked plainly.

Reece shrugged. "They make you say everything you think. Any non-stream-of-consciousness thought that pops in your head, it comes out your mouth."

Julian visibly winced. "Elune's breath, he must _hate_ that! Poor guy! Why the hell would they do that to him?"

The cabin boy looked slightly sympathetic as well, his freckled face pouting slightly. "I dunno. Guess Captain didn't trust him."

Julian shook his head, grimacing at the thought of Levianath, the most mysterious and socially reserved person he knew, being forced to say everything in his head. What an invasion of privacy. The poor guy was probably in his own hell right now.

Reece stood there awkwardly for a moment, and Julian shook off the negativity he was feeling and sent the boy a smile. "So where are you taking me? Anywhere's better than this cell, I guess."

"To a tavern," Reece grinned his bright grin, a look that stretched wide across his freckled, dirt-smudged, sand-toned cheeks.

Julian's brows arched in amusement. "Why is it always taverns?"

Reece's cheeks dimpled. "Pirates, remember?"

With that, the cabin boy grabbed Julian's arm and tugged him along behind. When they left the ship, Julian's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the world around him. He hadn't been able to get a good look of Booty Bay the first time around, but now it was brilliant. The pirate-operated inlet town was thriving with fishermen, merchants, auctioneers, travelers, and everything in between. He was glad that Reece had a tight grip on his arm; otherwise, he'd be lost in a matter of seconds. He was directed along the docks and up ramps, taking in sights and smells. Most everything smelled like salt and sea and fresh-caught pungent seafood, and to be entirely honest, this place was a bit overwhelming. Everyone was shouting about their wares and advertising their shops, and from all directions Julian could see people of every race interacting both positively and negatively.

Before he knew it, it all disappeared, replaced by a dark room lit by only lamps and candles, no windows. Despite its lighting, it was busy as well, and quite loud. Reece went straight to a six-seated table beside the bar, where Julian finally saw Levianath. The cabin boy sat Julian down at a corner by Levianath, saving a spot for himself beside the first mate, who sat next to the captain himself, who was speaking to a strangely familiar-looking chocolate-haired blood elf man across from him.

Julian immediately gave his attention to Levianath, who was seemingly enjoying a drink in silence, not paying attention to the three talking at the other end of the small table. Reece's attention was alternatively given directly to what the captain was talking about to his contact.

"So how's everything-" Julian started to say, but the half-elf spoke up before he could finish.

"Have you caught on yet?" Levianath said in a calm question, eyes not moving from where he was staring intently at the table, and he took a short swig of his drink.

"Caught on? To what?"

Levianath finally tilted his head toward Reece, who was oblivious. "Have you caught on?"

Julian gave him a blank look.

Levianath smirked slightly. "Cabin boy's a girl."

Julian frowned and looked at Reece beside him for confirmation, but Reece hadn't been paying any attention to the quiet conversation between the two 'guests'.

"Nuh-uh," Julian shook his head, laughing. "How would you know?"

"She told me when she thought I was the captain. She's keeping it a secret. I wasn't going to tell you, either, but..." Levianath just shrugged. "Truth salts."

"You seem oddly at peace with the fact that you can't not talk," Julian said with slight concern, though his thoughts were also running a mile a minute about Reece. A girl? Really? The kid might be a bit... slightly feminine in some aspects, but _a girl_? He took a second to steal a glance at Reece, studying the profile of her face. She had slightly thinner lips than average, a button nose, rounded chin, constantly-smiling eyes, but nothing that actually shouted female. But at the same time, nothing shouted the alternative either. She was also skinny enough that her frame and shape could be taken as a boy as well. Plus she always wore baggy shirts. Her voice was sort of husky, maybe, but not truly deep. It all sort of clicked in Julian's mind then, a confirmation.

_Holy crap, Reece is a girl._

Levianath responded to what Julian had said moments earlier, bringing him back to the conversation. "I was mad, however I then wondered to myself, what's the point? My life has already been turned into a nightmare; this is just icing on the cake. Might as well just roll with it all now." He took another swig of his drink. The man looked miserable.

"Hey, we could probably just leave," Julian coaxed, glancing behind himself and lowering his voice. "We could make a run for it. Just take off. We're on dry land, and Stormwind is only about a day or two's worth of travel on foot from here."

Levianath just sent Julian an aloof stare. "I recall you saying some words very similar to those, and guess where they got us?" He leaned forward. "On a cargo ship, chained to walls and starving for _two weeks_." He sat back in his seat, holding his drink indifferently. "No use. None of it is. Doesn't matter."

"What if we just try asking them if we could go?"

"Won't work."

Julian's mouth twitched at a frown. "But this is different. These aren't slavers, Lev. This man is your dad."

"As if that means a damned thing."

"It does," Julian snapped back, surprised at himself for the attitude he was projecting. "He's your _father,_ and although I know you might've had some unpleasant experiences with family in the past, it sure as hell doesn't mean you should just give up on him before you've given him a chance."

"He blew the only chance he had by forcing these fucking drugs down my throat," the dark elf snarled back in a low tone, low enough not to draw the attention of the others at the table. He leaned in closer toward Julian, his intense eyes flashing with emotion. "I'm not like you, boy. I didn't grow up with a loving family and perfect parents and not a single gods-damned worry in my perfect, happy-go-lucky world. And maybe it's not entirely unfair of me to refrain from giving my trust to someone who hasn't given me one reason to."

Julian bristled. "My parents are far from perfect. My _life_ is far from perfect, for that matter. But I don't see why you have to be so negative about _everything_. The world isn't out to get you, Levianath."

"Yes it is," the man retorted bluntly, with far less enthusiasm. "It is."

In a convenient interruption, Julian heard the group beside them erupt into laughter, and he looked over at the person the captain was speaking with. The man looked familiar, almost weirdly so. Julian could have sworn he'd seen him before somewhere around the orchard, and the guy's liquid-like voice was familiar too. Dark brown medium-length hair, subtly-curled mustache and tuft of fur on his chin, and heavily-scarred. Not like your average blood elf, since his structure was much more rugged, with a sharper brow ridge and a squarer face.

He nudged Reece beside him. "Who's that?"

"Leader of a huge guild. Amaranth, I think they call him."

Julian thought a moment, and then shrugged. "Doesn't ring any bells." He looked at Reece for a second. Something unknown kept him from asking her about what Levianath had told him, but now that Levianath had pointed it out, it was so incredibly obvious that she was a girl. As much as she tried to hide it, the cat was out of the bag for Julian, and he now couldn't believe he'd thought anything other than what he knew now.

An identifiably-goblin voice cut through the proximity between Julian and Levianath, and both Julian and Reece glanced over in the half-elf's direction.

"Compliments of the lady at the bar," a goblin server had said, handing Levianath a full tankard of some sort of drink. Levianath's brows lifted, and all three of them turned to look at the one the goblin was pointing out.

Julian was a little surprised. The human woman at the bar was indeed quite attractive, if rough-looking, like she was definitely the type to spend her time in a town like this as a regular. She had long ebony hair that was tied halfway out of her face with a colorful bandanna, and her skin was bronzed to a caramel brown. Her eyes took up practically half of her face, big and flirtatious as they caught Levianath's and then looked forward again.

Julian looked back at Levianath to gauge his reaction but saw that Levianath had already left his seat, his new drink in hand, and was walking over to her.

Both Julian and Reece leaned back in their seats, observing what was going down with blatant interest. They were close enough to the bar that they could hear the conversation between the two.

Levianath spoke first when he reached the woman, giving her a charming smile as he leaned against the bar beside where she sat. "On a normal day, I would gladly play this little game of bantering and flirting and what have you, but to be entirely honest, that's all very boring and time-consuming, and I think we can both agree to just get to the good stuff. You give me your name, I'll give you mine."

The woman smiled equally as sly, if a bit caught off-guard by Levianath's bluntness. "Sage."

Levianath took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "Levianath." His lips curled in a smirk. "And I think we both know what the ultimate goal of this encounter is, yes?" He was still holding her hand.

Julian nearly choked on his own air at Levianath's words, not only that he'd said them, but that they appeared to have worked.

A grin planted itself on the woman's face as she stood from her seat. "I like you, Levianath. You're honest. Come with me."

Her fingers linked into Levianath's, and she tugged him to follow her through the bar and up a flight of stairs, out of sight.

Julian, jaw now having dropped open, turned to look at Reece, who was laughing uncontrollably.

"Wait, what the hell just happened?" Julian exploded after a second, eyes still wide in shock of what he'd just witnessed. "Does that actually work on girls?!"

Reece, still laughing, nodded. "Apparently!"

Julian squinted his eyes. "We should test this."

The girl looked around the bar. Finally, she pointed. "There's one."

Julian followed her direction, noticing that she'd actually chosen well enough. A youthful-looking troll girl with wild pink hair appeared to have just arrived and sat down at the bar, sort of close to where Sage had sat. Julian stood, smirking, knowing it wouldn't actually work, and approached her.

"So," he said, trying to copy how Levianath had done his move and leaning against the bar, smiling at the troll in a way that he hoped looked 'charming'. He continued, "I'd love to sit here and chat and uh, banter and flirt, but I say let's just skip all the boring stuff. I think we both know what the real goal is here."

He couldn't help but wink for good measure before glancing back at Reece, who was doubled over in her chair, curled up in silent laughter. Her nose was wrinkled with her laughter, and dimples indented her freckled cheeks. He bit back a laugh and looked back at the woman, smiling at her happily, awaiting an answer which he was entirely positive could be a slap in the face.

The troll woman stared at him for a second, and her red eyes gave him a once-over. To his surprise, the corners of her mouth formed a smirk.

"Ya, okay," she said, her voice musical and young, but still sort of raspy like trolls' voices naturally were. In a weird way, she suddenly reminded Julian of Lily. She bit her lower lip. "Ya def'nitely cute enough."

She reached up, probably to touch his face, and suddenly he panicked, flinching away.

"Er, on second thought-!" he cringed back, stepping backward once and stumbling. "I just, ah, I think I just saw a very old friend walk through that door-" he pointed his hand in the wrong direction, opposite the actual door, and kept stuttering. "Sorry, you are very pretty, but I just-"

She began to laugh, and she stood from her seat. She was nearly as tall as he was, the first full troll he'd ever stood face-to-face with. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek spontaneously, her tusks slightly poking him as well, and shook her head. She turned and walked away, still laughing, and Julian stumbled back to Reece.

He ran a hand through his hair as he sat down beside her dumbfounded, and she was still laughing. He just now noticed how her laugh sort of chimed, how it was a pleasant sound. Then again, Julian was drawn to all laughter.

He finally found his voice. "How in the world did that _work_? It never works at home!"

"At home?" Reece, still laughing, elbowed him in the side playfully. "Maybe you've got more game than you thought, songbird."

Julian snickered at her playful attack and shoved her back, and she reacted immediately by wrestling against him, trying to shove him off his seat.

"HEY!" Julian laughed out loud now, shoving her back, and she toppled backward against the first mate, who reacted abruptly by tensing up and sending a scathing glare at Reece.

Reece didn't care. She launched forward and caught Julian entirely off his seat, and the two fell to the ground. Julian grappled against her, both laughing all the while, and they didn't realize as they'd drawn the eyes of everyone who'd been sitting at their table.

Reece finally managed to pin Julian in a strange choke hold, and Captain Darkrunner from the table let out a sportive cheer. At the same time, the door of the tavern swung open at the far end, letting in daylight. Two forms darkened the frame significantly, and Julian tried his best to catch sight of who it was but couldn't due to the nature of how his head was held at an odd angle.

Before Julian could even process a single thought, he felt Reece's weight lift from him entirely, at the same time as the table beside them toppled over, hitting the ground in a huge crash as dishes flew everywhere. Julian vaguely saw someone attack Fiammetta as the same time as he saw the form of a woman suddenly throw Captain Darkrunner to his back after a few clashes of his sword against her daggers.

Julian sat up abruptly, heart pumping as he finally realized what'd happened. His eyes fell on the captain, who was being held down by a woman with vibrant red hair, as red as his own.

"Paws off my son, scum," he heard his mother's intimidating voice rip in a snarl. "You've made a huge mistake."

* * *

**So... ****We got some action finally!**

**...Or at least, Levianath did. BWHAHAHGHGHGHaghahaha. *sits in corner shamefully***

**But give him a break, the poor guy had such a bad day. ****And in reality we don't _actually_ know what happened there. Mwahahah. **


	9. Discord

**Yay! 'Nother update! Car troubles, so I'm stuck at my sister's house instead of going to school. I ain't complaining..**

**Responses:**

**Katerika: Thank you so much! :) I'm so glad you like my stories! And ooooh I should check them out sometime. I always love a new story.**

**Chelinka: Yes! You've got the right idea! Mwahaha! And yes. Procrastination is my forte.**

**Noriana26: Ahh! I didn't see that review til now. And my kik isn't showing any messages! What the heeeeck?**

**Nyteknight: Oooh yeah, Raphael may be on decent terms with the big two, but he's definitely not confident in their trust enough to truly intervene.. xD**

**Willowstar: HAH! Oh yeah, Julian's luck keeps turning for the worst.. He really can't catch a break, not even in this chapter.**

**Psalty: I know right?!**

**Zarabethe: Ahaha yes, I was giggling when I wrote that part. Julian is adorable. xD And definitely meant to be with Reece.. Mwahaha. **

**Toxicstar9: Let the ship sail indeed, no pun intended! **

**LadyRaftina: Yes! Julian, do what you do best! What would that be...? Talking? hahhaha.**

**Kintaraheart: LET'S MOVE ALL YOUR CHARACTERS INTO THIS ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. MMMYESSS. They can all be buddies. **

**Mythique: Ahhh! I am so behind on everything! I'm thinking this weekend is my catch-up-on-everyone's-stories weekend, since it's my first one without 3 days worth of plans. :D :D And ahahah oh man I would pay big bucks to see that with Rommath and Braelyn...**

* * *

Until the barely-muffled sound of breaking glass broke out downstairs, Levianath had actually been enjoying himself.

Minutes earlier, the sounds of the tavern had been barely diluted even with a flight of stairs to separate Levianath from the floor below, but that was no issue for him. If anything, it helped him; the sounds kept his thoughts scattered, which kept him from speaking them out loud.

And, of course, he couldn't speak even if he tried right now. His lips were preoccupied with those of the woman who had so graciously saved him from his greatest fear.

They hadn't even reached the top step before Sage caught him up against the stair railing and curled her fingers into his sable locks as her mouth crashed onto his own, and from there, no words escaped his tongue. This was exactly what he needed. Not just because he wasn't talking, though. He'd needed _this_. The choice to do what he wanted on a whim, to not be controlled by other people or under the influence of will-stripping drugs. If he wanted to go off on his own with a woman he just met, then spirits be damned, that's what he was going to do.

He wasn't keeping track of the minutes, but the two had certainly taken their time meandering along toward wherever Sage had rented out her room.

So, when a loud commotion started up downstairs and the sounds of laughter and story sharing transformed into a violent crash, followed by a momentary hush and then a burst of confused shouting, Levianath had only just reached Sage's door.

Sage pulled away first, peering around Levianath's shoulder toward the stairwell at the end of the hall.

"What was that?" she asked breathlessly.

Levianath immediately tilted his head down and caught her lips again, desperately wishing not to talk and trying his hardest to ignore the sounds downstairs. Sage gave in, and Levianath, not breaking the kiss, took her key from her hand and fumbled at the doorknob for a few seconds. The door eased open slowly to a dark room, apparently without any windows.

The volume downstairs grew louder with the introduction of voices of angry Goblins. Levianath blocked it out as best as he could; probably a stupid bar fight, seeing as this was a pirate cove and a home of tavern brawls. When the brawls got too intense, the guards would fix the issue.

But, then, one sound echoed through the building in a thunderous boom: a roar, louder and more frightening than anything Levianath had heard in his life. He wrenched himself from the prolonged kiss, craning his head back toward the stairs, eyes slightly widened and jaw tense.

"What the hell was that?" this time it was his turn to ask the question, and Sage's to interrupt him. She tugged him toward the room.

"It's probably just a shapeshifter joining in a bar fight. Don't worry about it. The Bruisers here will take care of everything. We'll be fine in this room." She brought his face down to hers. She smelled like some sort of artificial fragrance that made Levianath's nose burn, almost like a spice.

Levianath gave in for a moment before feeling a tug of worry and guilt, and he pulled away again, resting one hand against the wall beside her head and glancing over his shoulder.

"Julian's down there," he murmured so quiet that Sage couldn't hear it correctly.

"What?"

"I have to go," Levianath looked back at her. "I'm sorry."

He sort of felt bad for leaving her behind as he jogged toward the stairs, but all of that was lost when he'd made it halfway down and finally caught sight of the tavern. He paused mid-stair, hand freezing on the railing, eyes widening as he took in the sight.

The first thing he saw was a giant cat, fur whiter than snow, standing out like a sore thumb in the dusty tavern. It looked like no Druid he'd ever seen, so if not for the obvious elven glow of its eyes, Levianath would have pegged it as a wild animal.

The massive feline seemed to be circling around someone defensively, or rather, a few people. He caught sight of the bright red tint of Julian's hair behind the animal, and then realized that it belonged to two different people. He recognized the woman standing next to Julian: the boy's mother, Norivana. She was slightly lowered in her stance, blades drawn, eyes burning with an intense silver as they shifted intelligently between everyone in the room.

This might mean, Levianath thought as he continued to stand there on the stairs conveniently out of sight, that the giant white lynx-looking cat standing between the two redheads and essentially the rest of the bar could very easily be Julian's father.

So the famous parents had come to save the day, finally.

He didn't want to get involved. Levianath considered going back upstairs, honestly, but then ended up deciding to watch what happened next, his curiosity winning over his subtle desire to return to Sage. Apparently Julian wasn't in direct danger, so Levianath didn't feel like he needed to intervene. He sat silently and inconspicuously on the stairs, leaning against the wall and avoiding direct light as he watched what was going down. He could see the Captain, the troll first mate, and Reece all standing over near where they'd initially had a table. The table was now on its side. They all three seemed to be focusing on the same thing, and Levianath followed their stares.

He realized what it was that the bright white Silverpaw Druid was defending his family from. It wasn't the pirates. A handful of Booty Bay's Goblin Bruisers had come in to dissipate the obvious feud between Julian's family and the pirates he'd arrived here with. It was clear that the bruisers were attempting to throw the offenders (those being Julian's parents) out, but every time any of them got close, the gargantuan white cat would lunge forward and roar and snap his jaws threateningly.

Levianath noticed the elf he'd been shortly introduced to, Raphael Amaranth, standing in the middle, speaking to Captain Darkrunner and obviously trying to pacify the situation. Darkrunner had his hand on his sword and was shooting a glare in Norivana's direction, but wasn't acting on his hostility.

Any of the other inn patrons had provided a large space in the open area, plastering themselves near walls and corners to stay out of the line of fire, most of them keeping their eyes on the giant angry Druid. Levianath was honestly unsure of the direction that this conflict might go, but then right in front of his eyes he saw another figure come into view: a black Druid, much like the white one but slightly smaller, launched itself straight into the pile of Goblin Bruisers, attacking the largest guard and knocking him down entirely. The Goblin was disarmed before he knew it, and suddenly everything was thrown into mayhem. More guards swarmed into the tavern, and Levianath watched with a mixture between concern and amusement as they all practically tossed every offending bar patron out the door, effectively clearing it of any fighting at all.

He noticed that although the Druids and Norivana were visibly violent, they weren't going to the extent of killing or actually injuring anyone, and that was where the guards had gotten the upper hand and thrown them out successfully.

The other people in the bar almost immediately went back to normal, a few of the tavern workers standing tables back up and promptly sweeping up the floors in a matter of seconds. Chatter started right back up again, and Levianath made his way across the bar to the exit. He'd just reached the door when he heard an angry, deep Goblin voice practically shouting.

"And all of you," the Goblin gave a pause for further effect, probably glaring, "gotta get your sorry asses outta this town by nighttime. Not one more speck of fighting, or you'll be suffering consequences that I really don't feel like raking out. I don't wanna go to bed with blood on my hands tonight. Am I clear?"

Someone must have acknowledged the Goblin's words, because as Levianath walked out of the door, the guards were all already returning to their various posts around the area. Levianath was pretty sure that no one even noticed him arriving, and he saw the black Druid revert into his elf form and speak up first.

He turned to the redheaded woman, who had removed her hood. "Norivana, I think that's our cue to get out of here."

Levianath saw her send a burning glare toward Captain Darkrunner. "Not until he answers for what he's done." She took a step forward, and Raphael and Julian both sort of jumped in.

Julian interrupted. "It wasn't him, mom. The pirates saved us, actually."

"It's all a misunderstanding," Raphael said calmly.

Norivana's eyes narrowed. "So what I saw when I came in..?"

Julian grinned at Reece. "That was play-fighting. I started it."

Norivana glanced between the two, now slightly interested, but the black-haired Druid spoke again, his eyes intense. "Either way, we got what we came for," he reached out and pulled Julian into a brotherly hug, almost rough in his handling. "So let's leave."

"Don't forget Levianath," Julian spoke up, tugging himself away from the man's hug and going to Levianath's side. For the first time, everyone else acknowledged his presence.

The Captain was next to cut in. "Actually, I'd really like to keep him here with us."

The black-haired Druid nodded in agreement, surprisingly. "We don't need someone like him coming back with us to Stormwind."

"Sarion," Julian scolded the man. "Get over it. He hasn't done anything wrong."

"He's dangerous," Sarion retorted in a calm but somehow aggressively-assertive tone. "He's not coming."

Levianath noticed that his truth serum was still active but not as strong as before, and he frowned as he spoke. "I think I should have a say in the matter."

"You and your magic have no place among us," Sarion snapped roughly. "Case closed."

Levianath's interest began to pique as Julian became visibly upset. This rarely happened ever with the boy.

"Sarion!" Julian barked. "If not for him, I'd be rotting in a shallow, unmarked grave, or at the bottom of an ocean. I think he has more than proven his worth. Give him a chance."

"Or," Captain Darkrunner cut in again, "Perhaps he could stay with me and my crew."

Sarion growled. "And you," the man hissed, taking a step toward the Captain, and immediately Fiammetta stepped forward defensively as Sarion continued to talk. "Why was Julian not given the option to return home, if he was as free as you all claim? Give us one reason not to strike you down."

The troll first mate put a hand to the hilt of her sword. "I would be careful with a threat like that, beast."

Raphael tensed up, about to throw himself in the middle again to intervene, hands going to the hilts of his daggers as well.

Levianath startled as a sudden growl ripped through the air, which suddenly transformed into a deep, booming voice.

"Enough." Lucian Silverpaw erupted as he shifted into full standing height for the first time, fully decked out in armor and standing in a threatening pose. "You all heard the guards. We need to leave." He stepped a single step toward Captain Darkrunner, and even the troll flinched when Lucian lifted a single finger to point at Darkrunner, "Take us to your ship."

Unquestioningly, they did what the persuasively-large man ordered.

Levianath trailed behind the group, and he noticed that Raphael was speaking to Lucian as if they knew each other. Perhaps they did? That would be taking irony to the next level. Levianath still wasn't sure how he felt about the Blood Elf. He seemed too shifty, but then again, Levianath was not one to complain about people being untruthful.

Raphael began to explain what he could about Julian's predicament, but was silenced by Lucian, who asked Julian to instead tell his story firsthand. As they all walked through town, Julian gladly and easily proceeded to recount every single thing that had happened since leaving the orchard, so precise in his story that he'd explained the type of clothing he had to wear at the labor camps and the thoughts that'd run through his head when he'd been on the cargo slave ship. Levianath, although he appreciated Julian's praise of him on multiple parts of his story, was about ready to muzzle the boy. He was a storyteller in and out, and obviously liked to draw out the tales.

By the time they'd all reached the end of the dock where the ship was currently anchored, Julian was on the topic of when the cargo ship had exploded.

"I have no idea what it was that freed me, but it looked like a big huge blurry black blob with green eyes. I couldn't see very well, though, because of how tired and hungry and sick I was. I'm pretty sure it was a demon, though. I could feel its anger. It broke my chains and put me on a raft made of broken wood from the ship, and then suddenly it exploded in all different directions. The ship did, that is. Not the demon," he snickered to himself. "I was worried Levianath had been caught in the blast, but after some time he somehow ended up on the raft beside me. I think I am missing time or something..."

"A demon exploded the entire ship?" Lucian's voice was uncertain.

"It was mine," Levianath spoke up. He wouldn't have, if not for the truth salts, however he could at least sense them fading. He caught a glare from Sarion, but kept talking. "I controlled it. Forced it to save Julian, since I couldn't. The ship was going down, and the voidwalker was my last hope."

Julian smiled and nodded. "I suspected it was yours."

"So what next?" Lucian asked as the plank was lowered to let them all board the ship.

Julian shrugged. "I don't exactly remember. I was pulled out of the water, I think... It was Reece, actually!" he pointed at Reece, and she grinned.

"It wasn't me who pulled you out, but I was there on deck. You were delirious, and we thought Levianath was the captain, for obvious reasons." She gestured between Levianath and Captain Darkrunner playfully.

Julian nodded. "I sort of remember that part. You guys just pulled him into that cabin," he pointed at the captain's quarters, "and left me out here with the sailors."

Reece began to snicker. "And you started singing."

Julian grinned. "Voice of an angel, am I right?"

"The rest of us joined in just so we wouldn't have to hear your voice," she teased.

Lucian interrupted the two's exchange. "So these sailors are the ones who _saved_ you, then?"

Julian nodded. "Saved our lives. We'd have been sold in Tanaris by now."

Lucian shared a look with his wife, a silent exchange, and then turned to the captain. "I think we've started out on the wrong foot."

"I agree." Captain Darkrunner smiled, which gave Levianath the feeling of looking into a mirror, and nodded his head once. He walked to the dooors of his large cabin and opened them up. "Now... Why don't we share a rational discussion about what comes next?"

* * *

The discussion that followed provided the revelations that, first of all, Raphael knew Julian's parents and Sarion quite well; and secondly, Raphael had met with Captain Darkrunner because the captain had been trying to pinpoint the locations of Saltsprocket labor camps set up in Stranglethorn Vale and Raphael knew where they all were. And, thirdly, now that Norivana, Lucian, and Sarion all knew that Lily was most likely taken to one of them, they'd already begun to come up with a plan to take out each camp that Raphael had circled on the map and find Lily in the process.

The captain seemed especially pleased, because it turned out that the time he'd spent away from his ship had been time put into finding those camps and sabotaging the Saltsprocket Goblins' shipment schedules. Apparently there'd been a feud between Darkrunner's people, the Bloodmoon Raiders, and the Saltsprocket mining camps for ages, and Darkrunner was just on the verge of finally gaining an upper hand.

And, now that he had locations of every camp on the map, thanks to Raphael, as well as manpower from the three who'd just volunteered to help, the captain was more than ready to take them on. Raphael had also offered the assisntance of some of his guild members, which apparently he had a very large and powerful guild, because Darkrunner was more than pleased.

"The sooner we go, the better," the captain announced, and the others agreed.

Lucian looked at Julian. "We can take you home first, if you want to."

Julian shook his head almost immediately, glancing over at Reece. "I really don't mind staying here instead," he smirked.

Norivana stood with a nod. "Julian, you'll be safe on this ship. We're going to get Lily back, I promise. This won't take more than a month, I'm guessing."

Julian nodded and stood up too, and he wrapped his arms around his mother in a tight hug. Levianath watched for a moment, feeling a strange twinge of pain originating in his heart, and realized after a moment it was probably envy. He took a moment to rejoice that his truth serum had faded entirely and that he was no longer broadcasting his feelings, feelings which even he didn't fully understand and certainly didn't appreciate.

Lucian hugged his son as well, and then Sarion did too before preparing to leave with the others.

Darkrunner put the first mate in charge of the ship, and he and the others gathered up some resources and re-stocked their bags with basically every necessity one would need when going on sabotage missions. They definitely weren't wasting any time, and once ready, it was only a flurry of goodbyes and promises before everyone but Reece, Fiammetta, Julian, and Levianath had left the room.

Fiammetta ordered that Reece take Julian to the lower deck quarters and find him a spot to stay, and Reece followed the woman's orders diligently, leaving just the first mate and Levianath in the captain's cabin.

The first mate regarded him with a neutral stare. "Captain told me you are to stay in his cabin. I personally do not understand why he is so quick to trust you, but it's not my job to question him. Your role here will be to stay in this cabin, keep your mouth shut, don't mess anything up in this room, and don't speak to the sailors. You will be given plenty of food and drink whenever you need it, but I do insist that you refrain from causing any trouble, and most of all, stay out of my way. Understand?"

Levianath just sniffed absently. "Yep. Light a fire in the room. Got it."

She bristled and glared disapprovingly at him, and he just smirked and shrugged, then pressed his palms together and let his fingertips light up in fel flame, messing with her. She was far too bossy for her own good.

A nerve in her jaw pulsed, and she simply picked up a half-filled glass of water and poured it on his hands, but since his flame was magic, it didn't douse.

Levianath sent her a disappointed look. "Everyone knows fel flame doesn't drown. You've just made a mess in the captain's cabin, First Mate. Better hop to it." He snapped his wet, flaming fingers tauntingly.

She glared at him. "This is your room, now. You can keep it clean."

Levianath glanced down at the water pooled on the floor. "Well, okay," he shrugged hesitantly, and willed the fel flame from his fingers to spread all the way down to the water, lighting it all up.

The first mate jumped back, even though Levianath wouldn't let the flame actually hurt her. He was simply annoyed with her ordering him around; it was the last thing he needed.

Her voice was sharp. "What the hell?"

"I'm cleaning it," he reasoned. "Just...not in a traditional sense. Full cleanse, if you will."

She fumed at him, eyes flicking down to the fire at Levianath's feet. Levianath sent her a smirk and stood up from where he'd been sitting, and he walked out of the room. He heard her follow after him.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at him. He'd kept the fire burning even upon leaving, even though he knew that she most likely knew it wasn't a real threat, not when he was controlling it like he was. He was doing all of this solely out of spite, and she knew it, but she was feeding into it perfectly. Levianath couldn't help but mess with someone when he thought they took things too seriously.

He turned and gave her a dull look. "Uh, well, my room is on fire, so I'd rather not be in it."

A few of the sailors glanced over at him at his words, and Fiammetta stood straight, eyes stern.

"Put it out, and return to your room."

He laughed humorlessly. "You think that you can order me around? I have a demon at my fingertips that can explode ships. You know nothing of control, but I could always show you."

Her voice began to rise as her vivid eyes bored into his. "I'd like to see you make a pathetic attempt at turning that threat into a reality."

"Truly?" Levianath retorted sharply, hands erupting in energy, and he took a step toward the troll, his expression darkening. "You would? You'd like to see me blow up your ship? Because I can, and I will, if you dare tell me what to do. I will _not_ be controlled."

He saw her hand go to her weapon. "Go," she pointed toward the cabin. "Now."

He simply cocked his head at her tauntingly.

"Get in that room!" she barked at him.

"I can't!" He retorted back loudly, bluntly, almost in a sarcastic tone, "That room is on fire."

She looked back at the room, only to see that Levianath really had let it grow into a full-blown inferno. She whipped to face him again, marching toward him.

"PUT IT OUT," she ordered angrily, drawing her sword and pointing it at him.

He let his magic erupt all the way up to his elbows, standing his ground. The two were only about five feet from one another, and Levianath glared at her intensely. "Make me."

A deafening crack from far overhead in the ship's topmasts caused both Levianath and Fiammetta to flinch and jump backward away from each other instinctively, eyes turning upward just in time to catch sight of two people toppling off of the far end of the highest sail, the mast of which had somehow cracked. Levianath's heart lurched into his throat; Julian and Reece were so high up that if they hit the deck from that distance, they could be seriously injured, or even worse.

He saw Julian reach out and grab Reece immediately upon falling off the edge, his large hand wrapping around her forearm and holding tight just as a now-loose rope from the falling sail whipped around and caught him by the ankle. The two began to plummet, but then the rope around Julian's ankle tugged tight, and instead of falling downward, they began to fall in a long arc, like a pendulum. Levianath heard Julian let out a sharp cry of pain and deduced that it must've been his ankle on the drop.

Both of them yelping as they fell, they swung down close to the deck, directly in between Levianath and Fiammetta, before rising almost all the way back up on the other side. The rope came into contact with a horizontal beam, and Levianath stared in disbelief as both Julian and Reece twisted once around the beam and were then hanging there, immobile; Julian hung by his ankle and held desperately onto Reece. The two were still far too high for safety, and if Julian dropped the girl, her predicament could be the same as before.

"Hold on!" Levianath shouted, immediately forgetting everything between him and the first mate, at the same time as Fiammetta threw herself onto the rigging and began to climb. Levianath ran back into the captain's cabin, which he'd inadvertently doused when his attention had been averted to Julian. He grabbed a large linen blanket off of the bed and ran back out, beckoning for a handful of the dockworkers to help him. They immediately caught on to what he was doing, and all took hold of different sides of the blanket until it was stretched out like a makeshift trampoline. They all stood underneath where the two were hanging, stretching out the blanket.

Levianath watched as Fiammetta reached where the two were perilously tied to the beam, and she attempted to pull them up by the rope, but realized they were too heavy.

"I'm going to cut the rope!" she shouted, and Levianath nodded eagerly.

"We're ready," he shouted back up. "Julian, Reece, when you fall, try to land horizontally."

"Hold on!" Julian called out before Fiammetta had cut the rope. His voice was gritted in pain. "Let me drop Reece first."

Levianath gripped the blanket tighter as Julian, after a moment, let go of the girl. Reece fell lightly, hitting the taut blanket hard and bouncing once before scrambling off into the welcoming arms of a few more sailors who'd been observing.

"Alright, are you ready?" Fiammetta asked Julian, and he gave her the thumbs up. Levianath could see from here the boy's expression and noted that Julian looked like he was doing everything he could to keep his composure. His sun-freckled face was red because he was upside down, and his ankle looked to be at an odd angle where it'd been probably dislocated by the rope.

Levianath readied himself for the boy's fall. Reece had been different; she probably weighed only three quarters what Julian weighed, and Julian was facing downward. This was worrisome; if he couldn't pull himself from a vertical position, he could be irreversibly injured from this.

"Ready!" Levianath shouted up, and everyone holding the blanket held it even tighter.

Fiammetta cut the rope.

Julian dropped like dead weight, but thankfully in the few seconds that he did fall, he curled his head and shoulders inward. His upper back hit the blanket, which at least slowed his fall, but his feet received the worst whiplash, and they hit last and hardest. He still hit the deck fairly hard instead of bouncing as his impact pulled the dockworkers inward and allowed the blanket to droop to the floor.

Julian let out a sharp yelp and then turned it into a broken groan, holding his injured foot still. He brought himself up on his elbows, looking down at his foot and noting that it was at an unnatural angle. Reece immediately knelt down beside him, looking extremely apologetic but at the same time laughing.

She grabbed the sides of his face, forcing him to look away from his injury.

"Ho-oly shit," she laughed incredulously, "we made it!"

Julian began to snicker, still wincing at the pain a little. "Yeah, I guess we did."

"That was terrifying," she still giggled through her words, shaking her head a little, still keeping Julian from looking at his foot. Levianath lifted a brow. The girl was smarter than he gave her credit for; she was distracting him so that the others could take care of Julian's foot.

Julian laughed and said something unimportant, and Levianath jumped into action just as Fiammetta had climbed back down onto the deck. He knelt down by Julian's foot as Reece kept speaking to the boy, and he took out a knife and cut the rope from the boy's ankle. It'd burned angry lines into his skin, but that wasn't the bad part. Julian's ankle was swelling and jutting out in a cringe-worthy direction.

Fiammetta knelt down beside Levianath, and the two exchanged concerned glances before focusing on Julian's ankle. Fiammetta finally spoke.

"You hold onto his shin; I'm going to re-set it."

Levianath did as she'd told, holding onto Julian's leg tightly. He felt Julian wince at the pressure, but Reece's voice picked up a little louder in response, keeping him occupied. Fiammetta carefully took Julian's foot with two hands, and she sent Levianath a short nod to say 'hold on tight'.

She pulled on the disconnected joint hard, and it slid itself back into place. Levianath had felt it pop and cringed when Julian let out a sharp, painful howl before it suddenly cut off. Levianath glanced back at Julian to see that Reece had bent over him and covered his mouth with her hand and had placed her forehead against his, her other hand holding the back of his head. Julian's eyes were scrunched shut in pain, but he'd relaxed significantly, and Levianath blinked at the sight; the action was oddly tender-looking, not to mention he'd felt an odd surge of magic come from Julian when Reece had done that. Had she pacified him somehow? It'd be interesting to investigate this.

From what Levianath gathered, no one on the ship could heal other than Julian himself, and when Reece finally let go of him, the boy was asleep. It _must_ have been a spell.

Reece sat back on her feet and glanced at Levianath.

"I'll take care of him. It's my fault he was up there in the first place."

Fiammetta spoke up. Her voice was the least intense that Levianath had ever heard it. "Good idea. You can take care of him down below deck; from this point on, the two of you are grounded. No coming above deck unless I say, okay? That was reckless of both of you to be climbing so high."

Reece nodded. "I understand." She stood and enlisted the help of a few sailors to help her carry the boy below deck.

Levianath got to his feet and let out a breath, running one hand through his dark hair. The redhead didn't catch a break these days, Levianath mused. One thing after another, just when things started to look up for him. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise, though. Julian could be cared for below deck and out of danger, out of trouble.

He glanced over at Fiammetta, and she returned his look and sighed. She walked past him and disappeared downstairs, and he, with nothing else to do, began to walk back to the cabin. He reached the door, and then heard Fiammetta's voice again.

"Hold that door, would you?"

He turned back and saw her approaching with a bottle of whisky and two glasses. He smirked and stepped back, holding it open, and let her in.


	10. Secrets

**Okay, so this chapter involves a lot of discussion. It was going to be a lot shorter and would've been more directed around further plot points, but I got carried away. :P**

**Responses: **

**Zarabethe: Yes! Julian, figure out her secret! Pronto! :D **

**Noriana26: Juleece sounds like a redneck name. I love it..**

**Chelinka: Yes! Sarion, chill out! Hahah. He will by the end, hopefully.. And oooh, good luck on midterms, unless they're already over, in which I congratulate you upon finishing them!**

**Mythique: Oh, Julian and Reece have yet to complete their full damage to the ship.. This is only the beginning.. Haha! And OMG. HOW DO YOU WRITE SO FAST? I have so much to catch up on, and it's killing me! I need more Braelyn adventures stat! Go away, homework and responsibilities! Fie fie!**

**Willowstar: This one doesn't have a cliffhanger either! :D I'm glad you appreciated that. I almost stopped it with her cutting the rope, like you mentioned. Almost. Mwaahhaha. And by all means, Shakespeare away!**

**ToxicStar: Oooh, we're saving that moment for when it's almost unbearable. ;)**

**Nyteknight: Oh yeah, the sheer number of times I've gotten myself killed in Booty Bay is appalling.. Hehh..**

**Jysshio: Sassy Levianath to save the day! :D And yes, those troublemakers are going to wreak total havoc on the ship soon..**

**LadyRaftina: Yes! Levianath, go for dat attitude. I'm rooting for you, man. xD **

**Katerika: Ooh, yeah, I'm including a Lily POV chapter either in the next one or the following! It'll either clear up a lot of questions or prompt even more. Maybe both. ;D**

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

"That was quick thinking out there," the troll hummed as she poured refills for them both.

Levianath shrugged, taking the glass as she handed it to him, and downed half of it right off the bat. "And quick climbing on your part," he said, wiping his chin with his forearm.

"They're like full-grown toddlers," she said fondly, though her expression retained that same intense look. "Although I am glad that Reece has someone to connect with."

"The two are surprisingly compatible," Levianath nodded. "Reece has her enthusiasm and Julian has his optimism."

Fiammetta sent him a surprised look. "You know she's a girl?"

"She informed me of it when she thought I was her captain."

Fiammetta sighed and nodded. "I see." She stared at Levianath, her expression unreadable.

He spoke up after a couple of quiet seconds, his thumb tracing the rim of his glass as he watched her. "Can I ask you something?"

She finished off her drink and set it on the table. "Ask away." She seemed far more complacent now than he'd ever seen her before.

"Normally I don't care to ask people this question, because I usually already know the answer. But what is it you hold against me? What have I done that you despise so much about me?"

She just lifted her brows. "What gave you the impression that I dislike you?"

He squinted his fel eyes. "We could start with your general sense of hostility toward everything I do or say."

A moment of silence passed, and finally the woman took in a slow breath.

"You're reckless," she stated plainly, leaning back in her seat and staring at him thoughtfully. "Young, rash, uncontrolled. You despise authority and your utmost goal is to cause chaos. People who should have loved you have likely wronged you at some point in your life, which has left you skeptical and cynical. You are dangerous, because you are unpredictable, and most of all, your focus is solely directed upon your own wants and needs, even if that is detrimental to others around you."

Levianath lifted his brows. "You got all of that out of...what?"

"Out of you being exactly like your father."

"How would you know who I am or how I act? We've barely ever spoken."

"Every single thing I have seen you do or say has been spot-on. You _are_ Wraith Darkrunner."

Wraith? That was his father's first name? Good to know. Levianath cleared his throat, "And that makes you hate me?"

A subtle curl formed at a corner of her full lips, which pulled over her tiny tusks. "On the contrary," she hummed. "I fear you. I fear what you can do."

"Just like you fear my father?" Levianath asked curiously.

"That's different. I respect him. You, however? You've got a ways to go."

He smiled, allowing the expression to be genuine. "Respect is a mutual virtue, you know."

"True," she nodded. "Then how about you start by not catching this ship on fire, and I'll start by not breathing down your neck."

Levianath smirked slyly, eyes flashing with humor. "Well if you're close enough to be breathing down my neck, I think our time could be spent together in a far better fashion."

She sent him a warning look, and he just laughed.

"Hey, you fill me with whisky, this is your own doing," he reasoned playfully. "Plus, I can't help it. Imagine seeing that much exotic attractiveness whipped up into one single person, and being expected to act like it's not there," he motioned to all of her.

"I'd have thought the truth salts would've worn off by now," she murmured.

"Oh, they wore off about two hours ago."

"So the thing with the fire?" she appeared amused, if scolding.

"All me, Baby," he winked at her.

Surprisingly, a smile broke across her face, one she obviously tried to stave but failed.

"And look at that, she smiles," he grinned, eyes sparking.

"You're not doing yourself any favors," she gave him a look, which he was pretty sure was a joking one, but couldn't tell. That was the thing with her; he couldn't read her, not like other people.

"Either way, we're still doing far better than we were thirty minutes ago," Levianath hummed. "This ship would probably be ashes if not for our two acrobats interrupting us out there."

"I wonder how he's doing by the way," Fiammetta murmured, refilling her glass a third time as if the previous two had been nothing. These trolls could drink anyone under the table.

"Dislocated ankle..." Levianath frowned. "I hope his abilities are strong enough to heal it."

"We could find a healer in the town," Fiammetta suggested.

"And if nothing else, he has his own personal butler," Levianath chuckled.

"Reece adores that boy," she mused. "I've never seen her become so attached to someone so quickly. Does Julian know she's a she?"

"I let it slip with the salts. I have no idea if she knows that he knows, though."

Fiammetta grimaced. "I'll admit, I am sorry about the truth salts. I wish it hadn't reached that point."

He just shrugged wordlessly, and things became quiet for a moment. Fiammetta spoke again.

"So how did you two end up as friends?" she asked about Julian.

He gave a partial smile. "I ask myself that all the time."

"You are polar opposites."

"I wouldn't go that far," he tilted his head in thought, taking a drink. "I'm beginning to think we're more similar than I initially believed."

"Brothers in all but blood?" she asked.

"No, no," Levianath shook his head quickly. "Oh, it'd be an insult for me to call him my brother, to group him with those siblings of mine. I like to think of Julian and myself as accomplices."

"That makes you both sound sinister."

"Anything is better than brothers."

"How about just calling him your friend?" she gave him a whimsical smile, which caught him again off-guard. Every time she smiled, it was like a burst of bright light in an otherwise dark room.

"I can do that, too," Levianath's eyes danced. "After everything we've been through, I sort of feel responsible for him."

"Same goes for Reece and me," Fiammetta said softly, her voice almost holding subtle affection.

Their eyes met for a few seconds, and Levianath was surprisingly the first to finally look away. Something about her gaze gave him odd flutters in his chest that he didn't recognize, and it made him feel exposed, vulnerable. She could see everything in his head, like she already knew everything about him. It was disconcerting; normally it was he who could analyze everyone else. The things she had said about him earlier had been eerily spot-on, too, which had shaken him a little. If anything, _he_ feared _her_.

Fiammetta spoke again, seemingly unaware of the effect she had on him. "I think that Reece and Julian have a harmony that most people never get the chance to discover. I will be sad to see them part ways next month. I don't know if either of them realize how rare their connection is, and I fear they won't until Julian leaves."

"What are you saying?" Levianath asked amusingly.

"I'm saying that maybe if we give them both a little push, they may have a chance with each other."

"You really think they're romantically-suited?"

"I have no doubt about it, actually," Fiammetta smirked. "Julian doesn't have anyone back home, does he?"

"Well, there's Lily," Levianath murmured. "But I have no idea how serious that actually is. I think it's pretty one-sided, from what I witnessed."

He was surprised he was even having a conversation like this. Without the whisky, he was certain it never would have taken place, but he wouldn't complain. He'd much rather share friendly discussion with her than the alternative.

"So," Levianath said after a few seconds of pause, sending the woman a sly smirk and sitting forward. "A little push, eh? What do you have in mind?"

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

Julian awoke to a pressure in his ankle and the sound of someone's boots hitting against the wooden floor. He shifted slightly and immediately regretted doing so. The movement sent a vivid jolt of pain straight up his leg and downward into his toes, and he winced, gritting his teeth together. He sat himself up on his elbows and glanced around, realizing he was down in the room Reece had set aside for him. It was a tiny, tiny room, only big enough for a bed and an itty bitty table that barely fit between the bed and the opposite wall. One small lamp was lit on the table, casting a subtle, warm light onto everything.

He looked down at his feet and saw that his ankle, his right one, had been wrapped up in stiff bandages and splinted to deter from too much movement. He wondered what'd happened to have made him fall asleep like he did; last he could remember was incredible pain, then Reece drawing his face to hers, and that'd been it. So maybe she'd put him to sleep? Or had he passed out from the pain? For some people, that might be considered embarrassing. Julian rarely ever became embarrassed, though.

If Reece _had_ put him to sleep, this meant she had some form of magic behind her belt.

Speaking of whom, the girl must have heard Julian's hiss of pain when he woke or something, because she poked her head in his door, noticed that he was awake, and let herself in. She sat down on the side of his bed, careful not to bounce his foot.

"How's the ankle?" she asked, voice as cheerful as ever.

Julian couldn't help but smile at her. "Hurts like the dickens, but I'm not supposed to tell you that sort of thing, am I?"

"Hey, you can tell me literally anything and I won't judge," Reece smirked. "You dislocated your ankle by saving my life. I think you're entitled to a little sympathy."

"Saving your life?" Julian snickered. "You make me sound heroic."

Reece's smile remained bright despite the seriousness in her eyes. "I could've died. You saved my life."

He tilted his head. "Well, we're lucky it worked out the way it did, then, huh?"

Again he caught a smile on her lips, and Julian watched her for a moment as things became quiet. He intently studied her face, which he noticed made her visibly uncomfortable for reasons he couldn't fathom. Her eyes drifted from his as he stared at her, and they refused to return, becoming fixated on the nearby table. He watched her chew her lower lip and momentarily lost himself in observing the action, but then focused again. He smiled playfully.

"If nothing else, I did learn a valuable lesson."

She finally looked back at him, all of the awkwardness leaving her demeanor immediately. "Oh?"

"Yes," he smirked. "If I ever see that someone has started a fire down on deck while I am currently up climbing the topsails, I should _not_ attempt to put the fire out with frost spells."

Reece grinned. "Because the frost spells could backfire and instead freeze the mast."

He nodded back. "And that mast could crack."

"And we could all plummet to our deaths!" Reece said enthusiastically.

"Hooray!" Julian cheered, laughing, and she giggled, too.

They quieted again, and a few seconds passed. Reece shifted on the bed beside him, sitting on the backs of her hands. She stared at her knees for a moment, and Julian observed her quietly.

Unexpectedly, she spoke up, her voice sounding carefree, but Julian could've sworn he caught something else hidden beneath it.

"Who is Lily?" she asked simply, curiously.

He blinked, mind jumping back to the topic of the missing girl. Lily. He hadn't allowed himself to give more than a few seconds of thought to her this entire time; it scared him to think about where she was, what'd happened to her. He'd been avoiding the entire subject.

He sucked in a deep breath, realizing Reece was watching him with her chocolate eyes.

"Lily... is..." he thought hard to come up with the right words. "Um, well, she's a friend of mine, a girl from my tribe. She was taken to a labor camp like Lev and I were, I think. A different one. I haven't seen her since I was last in Stormwind. I worry whether she's okay."

"Oh," Reece nodded nonchalantly. "What's she like?"

Julian's mouth formed a smirk, and he sat up a little straighter, still using his elbows as support. "She's got this... cool hair," he hummed. "And her eyes are like..." he made a few shrug-like gestures. "And when she laughs, I dunno. She has that...smile, you know?"

Reece stared at him blankly. "I honestly have absolutely no idea how to imagine her right now," she began to laugh.

Julian laughed a little, too. "Right, sorry. Well, she's got blue hair, bright, big eyes, she's tall..."

Reece continued to stare at him, as if she expected him to keep going, but that's all he could come up with.

"And, I donno," he shrugged again. "That's Lily."

"You literally just described what she looks like, and that's it," Reece said finally, smirking at him.

Julian held his palms up in a defensive shrug. "How else am I supposed to describe her?" he couldn't help but laugh at the look on her face.

Reece began to giggle. "Oh, I dunno, maybe... Is she...nice? Does she get along with others? Does she like or dislike seafood?"

"Seafood?"

"You're missing my point," Reece nudged him on the arm.

Julian sniffed. "Well, I mean, yeah, she's pretty nice, I guess."

Reece waited for him to go on, and he just started laughing uncertainly.

"What?"

Reece hopelessly threw her hands in the air and just shook her head at him teasingly. "You are impossible, Julian."

"I'm sorry!" he laughed. "In my defense, you are being very confusing, Reece."

She sighed and cocked her head at him. "You said she's your friend. Those people earlier acted like she meant a lot to you, but you talk like you barely actually know her."

"I know her," he said defensively.

Reece folded her arms. "Prove it."

"Well-!" Julian began, and then realized he had no follow-up.

He folded his arms too, having to sit up straight so he didn't fall back into his pillows, and now their faces were now merely a foot apart. Julian couldn't help but notice how long her eyelashes were now that he was this close; half the time, at least one of her eyes were covered with her messy hair and he'd never observed this closely. The pools of her eyes were murky brown but also exhilarating, just like a rich cup of coffee is dark but packs so much energy behind it.

"Well what?" she goaded, interrupting his moment, lifting her chin and looking defiant and playful.

"I'm just...not very good at describing people," Julian leaned back on his hands.

Reece cocked her head. "Okay then, describe me."

"Um," Julian swallowed, staring at her again. Her freckled cheeks were kissed by the sun and her dark, messy hair had streaks of lighter brown from natural bleaching, catching the flickering of the lamp on the table nearby. Her mouth formed a teasing smirk, her lips partially chapped from the salt of the ocean and the weather. This girl was the goofiest person he'd ever encountered, so carefree and straightforward and _real. _She was the first person he had met who shared his passion for life and excitement for all it had to offer. Like himself, her curiosity and spirit soared far above that of most people. He knew that through her outer, whimsical demeanor lay a deeper side of her, some sort of rich inner life which she showed to no one else.

Her eyes flicked between his, and he tried to speak but realized he'd clammed up. What _could_ he say? Anything he wanted to say right now would give away that he knew she was a girl, and he still hadn't figured out how to break that to her.

Julian kept watching her, losing words as he studied her face, which was far softer than he'd initially observed. Her skin, although dirty and freckled, held this youthful glow, and the way she was grinning at him right now made him freeze, his eyes falling on her smile.

It was in this exact moment that Julian realized how much he wanted to kiss that smile she gave him, and in that moment, he instantly felt terrified. His heart suddenly pumped in his chest, and he sucked in a breath. He couldn't kiss her, because he hadn't yet told her he knew she was a girl. He couldn't kiss her, because he hadn't realized until right now that he even _wanted_ to. He wouldn't kiss her, because he felt like she didn't want him to. There had to be a reason she was pretending to be a boy on this ship.

What in the world was going on with him? Here they were talking about Lily, the girl he'd had a crush on for _years_, and his first response was directing that crush toward someone who could easily be Lily's exact opposite in every possible way. Lily was this stunning, graceful, and soft elf, whereas Reece was this loud, boyish, short, skinny, round-eared human with dirt on her nose and pants that were too big.

But, in some strange way, as Julian's eyes flicked back to her sitting on his bed, he suddenly realized that she just might be the most attractive being he'd ever seen in his life.

And he had no idea what to do about it.

So, he did the only thing he could think of: a distraction, for both their sake. Reece had begun to look a little suspicious at his silence, so he shifted his bad foot on purpose, and promptly felt shooting pain jolt up his leg.

He let out a sharp, almost involuntary yelp of pain. Reece stood immediately from the bed, looking at his foot.

"Why'd you move it?" she asked him in bewilderment, and he was still cringing in pain.

"I uh," he grunted, leaning forward to look at it. "I'm gonna try to heal it a little."

"You can heal?" Reece asked, curiosity heightening to the next level, and Julian knew his sacrifice had worked. Crisis averted.

"A little, yeah," Julian reached forward and drew a mild healing spell into his hand, and Reece's eyes widened as she watched. He brought the heal to his ankle and immediately felt its effects seeping into the torn, swollen tissues. He knit what he could back together, and although it was only about five seconds' worth of magic that he could generate right now, it was worth it. The swelling had reduced, and the bandages had become looser. It hurt a little, but it was more of an ache than a sharp throb.

Julian sat back, leaning his hands against the mattress behind himself, and looked at Reece.

"And I have a feeling I'm not the only one in this room who can do magic, by the way," he said, cocking his head at her, and she folded her hands behind her back innocently.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she hummed.

"So, out there on deck when you somehow put me to sleep, what was that?"

"Oh, I just punched you so hard you didn't even feel it, and it knocked you out."

Julian laughed. "You liar. I felt magic."

Reece shrugged, keeping her smirking mouth shut.

He gave up and just laughed. "Fine, fine. I don't know why you'd keep that a secret, but fine." He gave her a look. "However, I will have you know that I am very good at keeping secrets."

He watched her as she began to put up invisible walls.

"Julian, you don't have any secrets," she giggled as she sat down beside him again.

"Yes huh!" he retorted, "I have many."

She clearly did not believe him, so he sat up a little straighter, able to move his ankle now without it trying to kill him.

"Don't believe me?" He took in a breath. "One time when I was seven, I used the old hot-water trick on my sister when she was sleeping and made her wet the bed every night for a whole week, and they still don't know it was because of me."

Reece looked about to retort, but Julian kept going. "One time, a few years ago, I kept a baby green ooze under my bed for _months_ and nobody found out - until I told my sister, of course - and I almost died. I would've kept THAT secret to the grave."

"You almost died?" Reece lifted her brows.

Julian just smirked and continued his point, speaking so fast that Reece had no chance of getting a word in. "Let's see... I secretly like dogs more than cats, and I don't know how the rest of my tribe would feel about that. Sometimes, I climb trees with no pants so I can feel the breeze, and this one time I read my sister's diary and convinced her I could read minds. Oh! And one time-"

Reece burst out laughing. "What was that one?"

"I like dogs more than cats?" Julian smirked, messing with her. He'd put the 'pants' one in just to make sure she was paying attention.

"No, that other one."

"I convinced my sister that I could re-"

"Nevermind!" she chuckled. "Those aren't secrets. Those are confessions."

"Well, then, now you know that if you have anything to confess, I can keep it a secret."

"Just like you kept all of those secrets?"

Julian just squinted his eyes at her. "You know what I mean, Black."

"Oh, so now we're referring to one another by our last names? Okay, what's yours?"

"Silverpaw," Julian hummed. "I thought you'd have deduced that after seeing my dad."

Reece just shrugged. "What, is he royalty or something? I've never heard of him."

Julian smiled. "No, I guess not."

Reece opened her mouth to speak, but the door then opened, and Julian brightened when he saw Levianath peek his head in.

"Hey, kid," Levianath said calmly, walking in and sending Julian a partial smile. "Good to see you're faring better."

Julian grinned brightly. He hadn't really spoken to Levianath since the man had been drugged. To be honest, he'd been afraid to talk to him. Julian didn't deal well with people who were angry or upset; he didn't know how to help them other than exude happiness, and in the inn, Levianath's anger had rubbed off on Julian. But, when Levianath leaned against the table by Julian's bed, he didn't seem angry or upset in the slightest. If anything, he looked content, and maybe just a little tiny bit drunk.

He tilted his head to look at Julian's ankle. "That needs to be re-wrapped. Reece, could you fetch some more clean linen please?"

Reece nodded and went without question, leaving just the two guys in the room.

Julian looked at his foot. "Why can't we just use the bandages that are already on it? It doesn't need new ones."

"I know," Levianath smirked. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About Reece."

Julian felt his interest heighten, and he subconsciously leaned forward.

Levianath smiled at this. "You like her?"

Julian nodded. "She's great."

"Have you told her you know she's a girl yet?"

"No, I'm honestly not sure how to."

"So saying, 'Hey Reece, Levianath told me your secret when he was drugged,' isn't working for you?" Levianath laughed.

Julian smirked. "I feel like it isn't that simple. There's got to be a reason she's pretending to be a guy, and I feel like if I tell her then it'll ruin what we have so far."

Levianath sniffed. "Maybe, but that shouldn't keep you from letting her know you know the truth. The only thing you're doing when you come up with reasons to not tell her is making decisions in her place about how she'll take it. You know, she may not even care."

"And if she does?"

"And if she does, I'm entirely positive she will not blame you."

Julian thought on that for a little while, and Levianath spoke up again.

"And I'm definitely not one to rush things, but you've only got a month left with her. Do you really want to spend that time taxing all of your energy into lying to her, or would you rather just have everything out in the open now and save the trouble?"

"I'm not lying to her," Julian replied in confusion.

"By keeping that from her, pretending that you don't know and treating her differently, you actually are." Levianath peered at the lamp beside him thoughtfully, staring at the flame. "And of course I am not one to look down upon lying. I simply acknowledge that it can be a very draining task and do not think it wise that you spend all your time here focused on the wrong aspect of your relationship with her. Not to mention it'll save her the trouble as well."

Julian laughed. "My relationship with her?"

Levianath smiled back at him. "I'm just saying..." he paused, "You will have the opportunity to leave here in one month for good. You may never see her again. Play your cards right, and things may end differently."

A small silence fell as Julian contemplated Levianath's words. Did he really want to waste this entire time experiencing what he'd just experienced with her ten minutes ago? Or did he want to act on it?

Levianath continued, "And by not doing anything about it, you're not only limiting yourself, but her as well."

Julian thought about that for about ten seconds' worth of silence, and then their conversation was cut short when Reece re-entered the room.

She began to tend to Julian's foot. She was so careful that he barely felt it when she re-splinted and re-wrapped his not-so-swollen ankle. As she finished, Julian yawned widely. He wasn't sure how long he had slept due to her spell, but before it, he had stayed up all night and almost all day. He was ready for a nap.

Levianath and Reece must have picked up on that, because they made him lie down, and Levianath blew out the lamp. When they both left the room, Julian was already asleep.

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

As they exited Julian's tiny cabin, Levianath peered down at Reece. She seemed bright as ever, if a bit tired, too.

"So, Reece," Levianath hummed as they walked past a few unloaded cannons and then stopped next to the stairs beneath the main hatch.

"Hmm?"

Levianath tilted his head to give her a contemplative look, folding his arms. "Mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"That depends," Reece shrugged, and crossed her arms too, leaning against a beam. "What's the question?"

Levianath smiled slightly. "Why the disguise? There are already women on this ship; what's the point?"

Reece chewed the inside of her cheek, sobering up surprisingly fast. Levianath realized he'd touched a nerve, but continued anyway, hoping her sudden vulnerability might help her to open up to him.

"You running from something?" he eyed her.

"Try some_one_," Reece corrected, her eyes falling to the side. "Family."

Levianath let out a soundless chuckle and leaned back against the wooden wall behind him, letting his head rest against it as well. "You and me both, kid."

Reece peered up at him. "How come you are?"

"Where do I start? I've got a lifetime of reasons to hate my relatives." Levianath said humorlessly as unpleasant memories began to resurface. "You know, one time when I was seven, my older brothers tried to drown me in the Stormwind canals? I only survived because they got caught by the guards. They got off with warnings."

He caught her eyes staring at him intently. She seemed like she wanted to talk but was hesitant, so he spoke again.

"I have experienced a lifetime of dodging bad people. Reece, if there's anyone who'd best understand whatever it is you've got hidden in that head of yours, it's me. Plus, I'm curious. I won't quit badgering you 'til you tell me." He winked at her.

Reece took a breath, laughed a little, and then uncrossed her arms. "You want the long story or the short one?"

Levianath just shrugged. "Whatever you feel like giving."

She licked her lower lip, staring at the steps that led up to the main deck. "You said your brothers tried to drown you..." She paused for a moment, and then tilted her head to look back at Levianath. "I had an older brother too. Only difference is, he's the reason I'm still alive."

He simply waited for her to keep going, so she did after a few seconds' hesitation.

"My parents were... sick," she said in a way that gave Levianath the idea that her word choice wasn't as accurate as it could've been. "Some people are just broken, you know? And in their case, it was because of a bad mixture of arcane magic, booze, and bad genes. Or at least, that's what I tell myself. It's what my brother told me."

Levianath watched her as she inhaled slowly, as if talking about this was bringing back something unpleasant. He cocked his head at her.

"What do you mean by 'sick'?"

She bit her lip. "They wouldn't act themselves when they got angry, and that happened a lot. Usually a lot more when they drank, which was almost always." A pause, and she cocked her head to peer at him sideways. "Have you ever seen that before? People completely changing the moment they get even one drink in their system?"

Levianath glanced down. "Yes, I have seen that."

"Well, that's what they were like, and it was amplified when they'd dose up on Arcane. They acted as if they were taken over by someone else entirely. They'd yell and break things and attack us, and then the next morning it was like nothing happened at all, or if something did happen, it was my brother's and my fault. They would remember it completely wrong. It got to the point of where after two years of trying to convince me, my big brother finally talked me into running away with him. We had this whole plan, too: drug our parents with a sleeping draught, and slip away in the night."

Levianath felt his heart begin to sink, understanding what it was Reece was talking about. He sighed. "So what happened next?"

"We got caught while making the potion itself. My dad found us in the cellar and got extremely angry. I remember him hitting my brother really hard and trying to hit me, but I dodged him. So he reached down and picked up the cauldron and threw the whole thing at me, boiling chemicals and all. My brother jumped in front of me and protected me from most of it, but he..."

She broke off, eyes gaining a haunted look to them.

Levianath finished it for her. "But...it killed him?"

She looked up at him and nodded quietly.

"He sacrificed himself so I could get away. I remember the last thing we had planned to do was to change our names, identities, and run. So that's what I did. I ran all the way from Darkshire to Stranglethorn and stowed away on a ship. That ship just so happened to be this one, and the person that found me was Fiammetta. I was afraid she'd kick me out, but she did the opposite. Never asked any questions, just let me stay as long as I worked. It was a long time before I told her everything that had happened with me and my brother and parents."

Levianath thought awhile in silence, the only sounds being those of muffled voices and seagulls. "What was your brother's name?"

She smiled. "Reece."

"Ah," he smiled back. "Starting to make sense now. You took up his identity?"

"Only his first name. I made up the surname, Black."

"Mind if I ask your real name?" Levianath tilted his head.

She shrugged. "My name is Reece Black. That's all that matters."

A smile grew on his face, and she mirrored him. He let out a laugh. "Alright then. How many people know your story?"

"Three. Captain Darkrunner, Fiammetta, and now you. I haven't told any of the crew because I don't want word about it getting out. Don't want my parents to find me."

Levianath lifted his brows. "I am surprised you told me and not Julian."

Her eyes flicked downward almost guiltily. "Well, you already knew my secret."

He took a subtle step forward. "Reece, I think you should tell him the truth about you. At least let him know your real gender."

"What if he gets upset about it?"

"Something gives me the idea he won't."

Reece still looked hesitant, and Levianath smirked.

"And you know he wont say anything to anyone. He wouldn't risk hurting you. Honestly, can you picture that kid hurting _anyone_? There's not a bad bone in his body. He'll understand. I can say in complete faith that he will."

A smile tugged at her lips. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Levianath laughed. "And you have nothing to worry about with him, alright? He _really_ likes you, kid."

Reece brightened into a full grin. "You think so?"

"I know so. Now you should probably go get some rest, too." Levianath patted her on the shoulder. "Been a long day."

Unexpectedly, instead of leaving, the now-grinning teen suddenly threw her wiry arms around him in a tight hug. Levianath tensed at the spontaneity and sudden contact, but quickly adjusted and laughed a little when she released him.

"I'm glad you know," Reece said cheerfully.

He nodded at her almost cordially, and with that she took off in a brisk jog toward the other sections that housed the crewmembers. He was surprised at the trust she'd given to him, and surprised at the protectiveness that had taken over now at the thought of her. First Julian, and now this goofy kid. What next?

The dark half-elf began to hum a quiet tune to himself as he meandered his way back up to the main deck, hands in the pockets of the clothes he'd been gifted with earlier. He wore an off-white, loose shirt, which billowed out the second he reached the fresh air. The sea wind pulled at his hair and clothing, and he took a deep breath through his nose, relishing the sudden sense of freedom he felt. If he truly wanted to, he was free to leave, right here, right now. He could go back to Stormwind, take his money out, and take off. Disappear. It was a tempting idea. No one was stopping him.

However he also felt strangely invested in this ship now. If nothing else, staying here for what little time he could would be entertaining, engaging, and possibly even fun. This was the first time he'd been around a group of people and hadn't been dying to escape them. It was a foreign feeling, and he wanted to explore it.

And, if that all turned out to be rubbish, he could always disappear.

He leaned on the railing at the edge of the deck, peering out over the water where the sun had begun to make its descent toward the horizon. The smooth surface of the ocean flickered with the orange light and all the scattered, layered clouds in the sky were painted pink, red, orange and gold. The giant green fronds of palm trees rustled on the shore, and once in a while an echoing, distant squawk of one animal or another carried out through the forest and over the water.

On the ship, the sailors were all taking their break after weeks of work. Now that the ship was anchored off-shore and wouldn't be going anywhere for at least a little while, they were allowed to have their fun or to go off and spend the evening in Booty Bay. Levianath could hear a loud crowd below deck shouting merrily about a board game tournament in progress, and he also heard singing and a lot of scuffling, which he deduced was the sound of the drunken pirates dancing and/or brawling. He had half a guess that Julian might be in the mix of all that, if not for the boy sleeping.

A door closing from the cabin beside him caused him to turn his head, and he saw Fiammetta walk out and glance in his direction. Their eyes met, and Levianath sent her a confident smirk, and then returned his gaze to the sea. He heard her footsteps approach until she was beside him, and he spoke while still gazing forward.

"Wouldn't happen to have any leaf on you, would you?" he requested casually.

She cocked her head. "You mean a cigarette?"

He just shrugged. "Haven't touched one in far too long."

"I'm sure at least one of the crew can spot you one, if you have means of payment."

"Eh," he waived it off, "slavers took everything I had. It's not important anyway." He flicked his eyes to her, noting how the orange sunlight ignited the entire contour of her trollish face in a vivid glow, as well as her navy hair. He stared at her for a moment before looking back over the water. "It's getting late."

She stood up straight again. "And I need to manage some trading in town before we weigh anchor. This ship needs repairs, and we've got a lot of cargo down there worth a lot to the right buyers."

"Cargo?"

"Sugar, salt, metal, rum," she listed. "The usual."

"Achieved by what means?" Levianath asked playfully.

A smirk flickered beside her small tusks. "You know the definition of piracy."

"So you definitely are pirates, then?" He turned around, practically sitting on the rails now to look at her fully.

"Yes, but we only loot from those who have enough to spare. Never the small or private operations. Wouldn't want to get the law on our tail, and especially not hunters. But a brig full of goods here and there is enough to bring in money to pay the whole crew, and have some to spare. It takes selective judgment to know when to steal and when to pass."

"You been doing it for long?"

"My entire life," she said, which surprised him. "I was born into it, actually. My father was the best pirate I've ever known; Darkrunner being second only to him."

"And your father was...?"

"A man of both honor and infamy. I used to like to think I took after him, but as time passes I realize how much more similar I am to my mother."

Levianath shifted his stance, hips cocking partially as he went from sitting to slightly leaning against the railing. "They raised you on the sea?"

"Yes; as much as they could, at least."

"What do you mean by that?"

"They were constantly busy, not to mention I was a difficult child, but I suppose that's the case for most trolls."

Levianath let out a laugh. "Ah, yes. Never underestimate the fire that is a troll."

She laughed as well, a sound that made Levianath's thoughts falter for a moment. Her voice was playful. "You know it wasn't until they put me in the permanent care of my godfather that I began to mellow out."

"How old were you then?"

"Fourteen."

He laughed out loud again. "And here I always thought it was the other way around. Normally teen years signify the opposite of 'mellowing out'. Who was your godfather?"

She coughed. "Guess."

He shook his head, hands out in a shrug. "Drawing a blank."

"Well, who's the captain of this ship?"

Levianath's brows lowered. "You can't be serious."

Her smirk grew. "I told you I knew him well."

Levianath stood up straight. "You're full of surprises, first mate."

She returned with a tilt of her head, her red eyes almost glowing as they caught the setting sunlight. "Catch me at another time like this and I just might tell you a little more."

"I'll hold you to that," he replied, flashing a smile.

She blinked once, and then turned, making her way to the ship's wheel and barking out a few orders to the crew. It wasn't long before the ship had been returned to the docks, and Levianath, instead of venturing out into the bay to spend the rest of the evening doing who knows what, went straight into the captain's cabin and fell asleep.

* * *

**We get to see what Lily is up to soon. **

**Also coming up: brawls, bonding, and more explosions. **

**:D**


	11. So, This Is My Life Now

**Whoo, okay, short update here. ****I've had this part saved in my documents for a while... It's supposed to be twice as long of a chapter, but I just thought why not post this tidbit here and then post the rest once I can find some freakin' time to write. ****Fo' real.. No me gusta el college. Wait, I don't even know Spanish.**

**Responses: **

**Zarabethe: D'awww, Julian and Reeeeece, they're precious. I can't wait for the upcoming chapter with them in it. :D Goofballs are gonna get in some trouble.**

**Noriana: Yes! Unleash the Silverpaws! MWahaha! **

**Willowstar: Ooh, if you love the explosions, you'll really enjoy the upcoming chapter featuring Julian, Reece, and some cannons...**

* * *

_Lily_

* * *

It seemed that each consecutive day, the weight she carried from camp to camp seemed heavier. In the bag swung over her left shoulder was a sloshing jug of water, and dangling over her right side were tin cans for distributing said water to the camp workers. Apparently if nothing else, the Goblin slavers did like to keep their people hydrated. Probably solely for efficiency.

Lily had so far made it halfway through her daily rounds by the time she reached a cave that jutted outward from the rocky cliffs by the Tanaris sea, and she stole that moment to take a short breather. The overseers would catch her if she waited too long, but they rarely came to this cave, seeing as its spoils had already been plundered. Any and all valuable materials had been mined already, and now all that was left was sandstone, dirt, and the remnants of salt deposits.

The only other person who ever came to this cave was Duncan, anyways.

She let out a breath and stepped just out of the direct sunlight into the cave. A stump of a rock nearby seemed more inviting than any comfortable chair back home had ever been, so she gratefully obliged, plopping down onto it and allowing the weight to slide from her shoulders and hit the ground. Her blue hair, which she had always taken pride in, drooped limply against the sides of her face and seemed to have taken a dustier, duller shade over the past two months.

Lily had lost faith. Not only faith that someone would come save her, which she'd been convinced of for the first two weeks, but also the hope that she would be leaving this place at all. This was her life, now. No one knew where she was. The last thing she remembered was being in that tavern with Julian and Levianath, and then encountering the Goblins, and then nothing. By this point she understood that she had been drugged and coerced into joining the 'excavators', which were actually just a fancy, loopholed version of a slavery op.

For the first couple weeks' worth of being forced to work here, Lily had fought and complained and cried every night in her old, threadbare cot. She had felt absolutely and dreadfully alone. Julian was probably safe at home, hopefully at least curious as to where she had disappeared. Her friends and family by now probably just assumed she'd gone off to another tribe. The one set up in Darkshore was where half her immediate family was already, so it'd have made sense for her to go there without notice. Basically, Lily was pretty sure that no one was missing her, and as such, she was stuck here, forever. She felt resentment toward those who should be her friends, but ultimately, she found that she'd entirely lost her respect for her tribe. No one had come to save her, and that was that. She was alone.

That thought had initially haunted her night after hopeless night. She had never in her life felt so incredibly alone, exhausted, and futile, with no one to give her even two minutes of their time because they too were working dusk 'til dawn and hadn't the energy. But then, despite it all she had found her diamond in the dust, or in this case, sand. And that diamond's name was Duncan.

Duncan was one of the workers, a human man with far too much spirit for a place like this labor camp. She'd met him her third week making the rounds. Apparently he'd been transferred in from one of the smaller camps the same day they'd met; he had caused the taskmasters too much grief for far too long, and they'd ended up sending him off to a larger, stricter, highly-vigilant camp with more rigorous work, that camp being the one Lily was being held at now, the largest one of them all, the one that oversaw all the other ones everywhere else.

Duncan had been, according to his own nonsense claims, 'born into this line of work', whatever that meant. However he also claimed that he was part dragon and that he had control over the ocean tides, so nothing he really said could be taken seriously anyways. He was an intelligent young man, late twenties or early thirties; he hadn't told her specifically, because he claimed to not know. He was far too smart to be slaving away each day, spending nothing but sheer strength and not being able to tax any of that energy into his mind.

Lily let out a breath, noting the angle of the sunlight that peeked down into the cave entrance. Duncan should be here any minute, she thought to herself, and that brought the hint of a smile to her lips.

Sure enough, a shadow suddenly filled the cave entrance, and Lily stood fluidly, taking in the sight of the form before her. Duncan had his shirt removed and tied around his hips, drenched in sweat from the sweltering heat of the day. His sun-darkened skin glinted as he took a step in, his dark-brown and slightly-bleached waist-length dreadlocks shifting over his shoulders. In one hand, he held a heavy, blunted pickax so lightly that it was as if it were an extension of his own arm. She saw an acute grin plastered on his broad, angular face, and she smiled back as he spoke first.

"Sorry I'm late," he purred at her in a deep melodic tone, setting the pickax on the ground, where its handle fell sideways into the sand. His pale grey eyes held hers. "Overseers decided to eye me all the way back to the main path; had to wait before dipping back and heading all the way around the-"

"Oh, shut up and come here already," Lily giggled, reaching out and pulling his face to hers, kissing him deeply. His full lips were salty; she wasn't sure if it was due to the sea air or his strenuous work. He drew her in tighter, hands closing at the small of her back, before finally pulling away.

"We don't have a ton of time today," he warned. "For some reason the overseers are extra-alert lately; they catch either of us somewhere we shouldn't be, it might ruin this little setup."

"Well then I'll take what I can get," Lily said simply, smiling, and she drew herself in again to kiss him.

He obliged, but again to her frustration, pulled back after only a few seconds. They were losing precious time, here. They only got to rendezvous once a day these days.

He spoke again, this time hushed. "Lily, tonight's the night."

"What!?" she almost squeaked. "But you can't! You haven't even planned it all-"

He placed a finger to her lips to silence her. "I have, though. And I've recruited others. It's time."

Lily found she could do nothing but swallow dumbly, eyes widening in excitement.

Duncan drew his lips back into a dark smile. "Tonight's the night," he repeated, grabbing his pickax for effect, "that I overthrow those cheating bastards. _I_ will take charge here. I will be king of this entire enterprise...and you, Lily, will be my queen."

* * *

**OH GHAD, SO MUCH LILY INFORMATION AT ONCE, WHAT IS GOING ON. WHAT IS A DUNCAN.**

**Also the next chapter is seriously insane. It's also from Lily's point of view... I can't wait to write it. It'll probably be around Thanksgiving when I get it up here, since I will have a couple days off.**


	12. Coup

**Okay, so I know I said Thanksgiving, but I finished up an assignment and decided to write up just one more little tidbit of this chapter because it wouldn't leave me alone. I ended up with the flu this morning so my heavily-medicated mind decided to write. **

**Responses:**

**ToxicStar: Oh we'll get to know Duncan a little better soon, and I might throw in some hints of what Lily's experience was like if I can find a way for them to fit. :) And thank you! I love that quirky pairing. Heheh.**

**LadyRaftina: Lily, follow the words of Khadgar! Haha. Oh yeah, we're definitely learning her true colors in these chapters, as well as the rest of the story. She may not be that best friend that Nyela loved, or she may still be... Who knows? *shrugs* Oh wait... I do. MWahhaha!**

**Zarabethe: Here I am giggling uncontrollably at "IT'S A TARP" because I can't tell if that is the best typo to have ever happened or if it's intentional. Either way, still giggling. Be wary of those death tarps.**

**Noriana: Yes I should! :D He's got a very distinct appearance... he'd be interesting to draw. Kinda like a wonky, sandy Tarzan.**

* * *

Lily's nerves for the remainder of the day were high-strung, and her focus had been thrown out the proverbial window. Duncan, who she knew had been planning a coup for a while now but hadn't taken him seriously, had announced to her that he was going through with his plan _tonight_. This terrified her, not just because the overseers were heavily-armed and it was absolutely impossible to actually infiltrate the taskmaster's headquarters, but also because of the danger that the man would be putting himself into.

Duncan was smart, though, she'd give him that much, and far more cunning than the average slave. If anyone could find a successful method of overthrowing the tyrant, it was her knight in sandy armor.

She hadn't seen him since their rendezvous at the cave, and she knew she probably wouldn't until after he'd made his move. She could only pray that he would succeed. Part of her hoped desperately for his sake that he would make it, but a more selfish side of her hoped that he would for _her_ sake. She hated this day-to-day work with no hopes of change, and having her lover rise to the rank of taskmaster would certainly make her life a whole lot easier.

Was it bad that she had moved so quickly with Duncan? She didn't think so. After six weeks of knowing him and seeing him once a day, she felt more attached to him than anyone else she knew. A small voice in her mind had initially warned her against it, that she was placing the man on a pedestal he was unworthy of and that she couldn't see the truth behind it all, the truth that perhaps her affection for him was based solely on the idea that he was the only one in this place who had given her any attention. However, she'd ignored that worry, and she was glad that she had.

Nighttime was nearing, and the sun had already dipped below the seaward horizon, leaving just a pinkish, darkening sky in its wake. The temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees since midday, feeling almost comfortable. Lily had worked from dawn, and her exhaustion fought against her anxiety toward Duncan's plans. Ultimately, she chose to shower and dress and then promptly went to the sleeping quarters.

She'd just reached the dormitories when she heard a scuffling behind her and turned, peering through the tents and trying to catch movement in the low light. Abruptly, the only nearby torch was doused, hissing as the fire died, and the world suddenly became black.

Lily stumbled backward a step, but then a broad hand covered her opened mouth as she felt herself back into the firm chest of someone behind her.

"Careful, Pet," she heard Duncan's low whisper and immediately stilled as he'd requested, "let me take you somewhere safe."

She let him lead her through the camp, ducking behind tents and moving silently until they reached an outcrop beside the sea. Lily was shocked at the lack of overseers in this area; it seemed they had all migrated to another location, and this confused her. Duncan made her duck down and sit in the shelter of the small hiding hole. He knelt down beside her.

"Wait here. I will fetch you soon." He drew her in, kissing her heatedly before standing. His mouth was unusually warm, the aftertaste seeming almost smoky.

"Duncan-" she argued, mind whirling with questions.

"I will return. Do not stray from this spot," he cut her off with the words, and then took off running back toward camp.

Lily sat back in the spot he'd placed her in, letting her legs hang over a small ledge. The moon was nothing more than a sliver in the sky, barely offering any light at all, and the stars scarcely glimmered. She suddenly felt dark, scared, and alone. What if she was found here by an overseer? They had a zero-tolerance for escapees; if you were caught, you were either whipped, starved of rations, or if the taskmaster was feeling grumpy, just killed entirely. This camp didn't joke around.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and receded further into the comfort of the darkness of her hiding spot, resting her head on one knee. This had all better work out, or she'd have nowhere to run.

* * *

Lily jumped awake as a rough hand shook her shoulder, and her eyes blinked out their grogginess as they attempted to focus. A harsh, flickering light jarred her sight and caused her to squint, and she made a face as she peered up at a blurry face beside a bright, fiery torch.

Duncan's voice brought her to proper consciousness, "Lily, come swiftly, you must see this." His voice held a certain cold, energized glint to it, a danger that intrigued and woke her.

She felt his hand pull her up to standing, and she again let him lead her behind. The smell of smoke lingered in the air, and she could hear distant, muffled yells of confusion and panic. After a moment, she realized Duncan was flanked on either side by a good-sized group of people, men and women workers whom he must have recruited for tonight. They carried the weapons of the overseers, and she looked at Duncan and noticed that he too had a large machete strapped to his hip. The blade was streaked in dark red blood.

"Duncan, what is happening?" she squeaked in surprise as they finally came into sight of the source of the smoke. One of the tents closest to the reinforced fort that housed the taskmaster and overseers was ablaze.

Duncan turned back to her, his silver eyes catching the torch's firelight and seeming to ignite themselves. "A distraction is happening," he announced, and then looked up at his followers. "Run ahead and take out the guards as silently as possible. I need to make it to the inside."

"Where are the rest of the overseers?" Lily wondered aloud, noting that she only saw a sum total of about half of what there should be here.

"Dead," Duncan said bluntly. "Come."

He tugged her along behind him again. Sure enough, as they began to follow after his people who'd gone ahead, they passed two dead bodies lying in pools of blood, their necks slashed. Lily swallowed down her disgust, feeling a sense of triumph as well. Serves them right for the way they had treated her.

As they ran past the fiery tent, they encountered three overseers who, instead of attacking them on sight, took one look at Duncan and dropped their weapons, and they stumbled backwards into one another, one of them tripping as they scuffled to escape. Their eyes had held such an intense fear, the likes of which Lily had never seen before.

They reached a barred door where Duncan's people awaited them, and Duncan finally let go of her hand and had her take a few steps away. He stepped back as well, and then kicked the door in at its handle, resulting in a deafening crack. Splinters sparked outward as the door flew inward, and in they all went.

Duncan ran up ahead, and Lily watched as he soundlessly overpowered one guard with just a strangling choke hold, using nothing other than his own arms as his weapons. It terrified her watching him snuff the life out of someone so easily, but on the other hand she felt adrenaline and excitement. He was on her side; she didn't have to be afraid.

He drew his machete as they ran down a long, empty corridor, and he didn't slow as they reached another locked door, rather he kicked that one in as well and burst into the central room. By the time Lily reached the doorway, the others had all swarmed in, and she caught sight of Duncan just as his sharp, barbaric blade collided against the taskmaster himself.

Lily had only ever seen the taskmaster one other time while working in the camps, and at that time, he'd been dressed in intimidating armor and surrounded by henchmen. He was an intense, middle-aged Goblin with a permanent scowl on his face.

But now, here he was in his own sleeping quarters, dressed in pajamas. He looked far less intimidating, almost pathetic.

Lily stared on as Duncan's blade caught the unsuspecting, nightclothes-clad Goblin square in the face. The taskmaster ungracefully hit the floor, and not soon after, Duncan sank the machete straight into the man's heart where he lay.

Lily retched at the gore, hands shaking. At the sight of their taskmaster's brutal death, the surrounding overseers dropped their weapons and raised their hands immediately in defeat.

Duncan gruffly wrenched the blade from the body and wiped the blood off onto the taskmaster's clothing, then sheathed it at his hip and turned to Lily, panting slightly, his forearms spattered with blood which she was sure was not his own.

"Piece of cake," he murmured, a dark, energized smile forming. He held his hands out. "Comrades," he announced, walking over to Lily and brushing her chin with his thumb affectionately before craning his head toward the rest of the people in the room. "This is our kingdom now."


	13. Mistakes

**Hey all! Chapter 13 is finally up! **

**Been using writing as a break between final projects, final papers, and loads of homework. And then there's studying for final exams. You'd think having 2 weeks left would be a good thing. Nope.**

**Responses:**

**CherryMountain: Ooh! Yes, I think that'll either be in the next chapter or the one after it. :D Coming up fast!**

**Willowstar: YEAH, LILY! What's up with that!? **

**Psalty: Me, neither... :D**

**Noriana: Hahaha yes, she does... She's gearing for disaster, I'll tell ya what.**

**LadyRaftina: LOL yes, the worst villainess name. xD And yeah, Duncan is bad news, I'll just come right out and say that.. He'll be trouble for _everyone_. :P **

**Zarabethe: I STILL NEED TO READ GRACE, DUDE. I'm dying to. I was going to last weekend, and I ended up swamped again. Hrrrngh. *pulls out hair*  
**

* * *

**I do believe we're over halfway through this story. Whoo!**

* * *

_Reece_

* * *

Reece wiped away droplets of sweat that had caused her dark, scruffy hair to stick to her face. She had been up before dawn, helping the dockworkers transport new cargo onto the ship, and had not for one second felt any negativity toward the work. She was technically supposed to be grounded, according to Fiammetta, due to the whole 'falling off the mast' fiasco, so this was a treat. Not to mention this job was her life, and she'd made it a goal a long time ago to enjoy every minute she could, even if it involved working her butt off from the second she woke until the second she fell asleep. Hard work made her happy. It made her feel useful and appreciated.

The sun hung almost directly overhead now though, beating down on the world with such an intense heat that she almost couldn't think straight. She felt slightly jealous of her fellow male deckhands who had long since tossed their shirts aside and could openly enjoy the breeze. Of course, if she truly wanted to, she could technically go shirtless and probably wouldn't receive complaints from the rest of the crew, but that was beside the point.

She returned to the docks for another crate, only to realize that they'd all been accounted for. She turned back toward the ship, but a sailor's voice, which she recognized as Torrus, the sole Dwarf sailor on the ship, beckoned her back.

"Oy, Reece!" His tone was rough, sort of gravelly.

She turned around with a bright expression, ready to help however she needed to, only to see that he was leaning one elbow against a gigantic, new cannon. He wiggled his brows.

"Lookit this beauty," he stood up, staring at the cannon with pride and popping a curled pipe between his teeth, taking a heavy puff.

Reece's eyes widened, and she stumbled over to the impressive gun, her mouth forming an excited smirk. "Don't tell me this is also going on the ship..?"

"Aye, Laddie," Torrus grinned at her, his fiery orange braided beard jumping as he spoke. "So if yeh'd like to help me roll her 'cross the ramp..."

Reece hopped into position behind the cannon without a second question, situating the wheels on its carrier to point the right direction, and Torrus took his place as well, biting the pipe with his molars to keep it out of the way.

"Ready," he said gruffly, and she nodded, bracing her weight against it.

They loaded it onto the deck with little difficulty, and she then helped Torrus and three other sailors connect pulleys to it so that it could be lowered into the gun port. From that point on, she wasn't allowed to help because it was delicate work installing it, and she didn't have the required skill set to fit a cannon to a ship. However, she was allowed to watch, and with her work finished for now, watch she did.

As always, she asked too many questions and kept the workers entertained, but she knew that was ultimately the reason they kept her around in the first place. She was strong and helpful for most simple jobs, just another set of hands to make things easier, but when it came to the detailed work, her job was to entertain. And she was good at it, too.

She felt like most of the sailors had taken her in as a little-brother-type character, and she was thankful for this. This crew was her family, and even when she was at her most annoying (or so she believed she was), they were graciously patient with her. They genuinely laughed at her jokes, so that was a plus, too.

After the cannon was installed, she became bored once she realized they wouldn't be testing it out anytime soon, and she wandered off down the hall to the sleeping quarters. Julian was still asleep, and it was nearing noon already. He'd slept enough, and she wanted a playmate now that the work was over.

She reached his door, and then paused, the memory of her conversation with Levianath last night ringing loudly in her ears. She needed to tell Julian the truth, she'd come to that conclusion. But now that she was about to talk to him, she felt a wave of anxiety. She had no idea how Julian would react.

After a few seconds of remaining frozen outside of his door, she let it silently swing open and peeked in. He was sleeping with one leg and one arm slung over the edge of his bed, both his foot and his hand lying limply against the wooden floor. His lips were subtly cracked open, and his fiery hair was haphazardly draped across his pillow and halfway over his face.

She grinned and tiptoed to him, then knelt down only a foot from him, staring at him. He looked so goofy all sprawled out, yet so peaceful. He was without a doubt the most unique-looking boy she had ever seen in her life; he had the delicateness of a Blood Elf and the sheer size and eyes of a Night Elf. His skin was an even blend between the bluish hue of his dad and the peach color of his mom, which basically gave him a very pale, silvery complexion. He'd certainly spent his fair share of time under the sun, though, that was for sure, because she could see his exposed shoulder and across his nose were tanned and freckled. His vivid red hair looked silky as always, though quite messy. His brows, and even his eyelashes, matched the crimson tone.

Her favorite feature of his, though, was his lips. He had a broad, shapely mouth, framed by a sharp jaw, but somehow his lips were extremely soft-looking. Delicate, even. When Reece had first seen him, he had been parched and starved, and they'd been severely chapped. They were recovered now, though, and she appreciated how even in his sleep, at his most relaxed state, the corners of his mouth naturally curved upward in a perpetual, gentle smile.

Reece'd had crushes before on various people she'd encountered over the past few years, and she knew that every time she had, she'd told herself 'this one isn't just a crush, it's bigger than that,' but then two weeks later, she'd moved on. She wondered if that was the case now, if she was just infatuated with this boy due to that inevitable crush she was bound to have on someone as magnetically attractive as him, not to mention he was so hilarious and could make her laugh at just about anything, even though that wasn't so hard to do in the first place with her.

Perhaps that was the case, but what about the things his friend had said?

_He really likes you,_ Levianath had told her. Was it true? And what had he meant by that? Did Julian like her, or did he like her?

Of course he didn't _like_ her; he didn't even know she was a girl!

Reece frowned contemplatively and sat back on her heels, still staring at Julian in silence. She felt like a creep just watching him while he slept, but she didn't care. He wasn't even awake anyways to judge her for it.

Deciding that needed to change, she stood and left the room, closing the door as silently as possible. She stood there a moment and took a deep breath, and then raised her fist and began pounding on the door.

"JULIAN! JULIAN, GET UP! HEY, JULIAN!" she shouted, continuously slamming her fist against the wooden door, and she heard scuffling from inside. The door suddenly burst open and revealed the redhead standing there on his good foot, eyes half-crazed.

"WHAT?!" he practically shouted back at her, his voice popping up an octave in his surprise, and his sleep-tousled hair tumbling down in all sorts of directions. He stood there with one hand on the doorknob and the other hand ignited in some sort of frost arcane, which made her cringe back instinctively. The girl meant to keep playfully teasing him, but gawked as she observed that his shirt was missing. She hadn't noticed it before because he'd been covered with his blanket. With that observation, every clear thought left her head, and her eyes widened.

Julian's eyes searched the hall behind her first and then flicked to her own, which she did her best to wrench from his bare stomach and chest, absently noticing how his shirt had definitely hidden the fact of how defined he really was. She hated to admit it, but working in a slave camp must have done wonders on his physique.

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

"Reece, what is it?" he repeated, voice still sleepy, shifting his stance and limping slightly on his ankle.

She spoke before she thought, looking at his foot. "Need me to play doctor with you again?" Immediately, she cringed hilariously at her own words.

The arcane magic immediately flickered out, and Julian's brows shot up and the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile, his voice suddenly switching from surprise to pure amusement as he gave her a direct look. "What?" Even that one word held hints of laughter.

"That...came out wrong," she swallowed sharply, internally kicking herself, nearly stuttering. She had no idea why she was so off right now. "How is your ankle? Does it need to be re-wrapped?"

"Well," he glanced down at his foot. "I suppose it's fine."

"Okay. I want to show you something," she said, attempting to recover by peering off down the hallway.

"Alright, lemme just get dressed," he sniffed, and Reece glanced back down at his stomach for a half-second before shaking her head.

"N-no, that'll be unnecessary," she shrugged. "It's really...hot out today. You won't need a shirt." She reached out and grabbed his wrist, tugging him (gently) to follow her. He limped slightly, but she was glad he could at least walk, and she walked at his comfortable pace.

"What's so important?" he asked, most of the sleep now gone from his voice.

"You'll see," she said happily, but then paused when he stopped walking entirely and winced. She glanced at him. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just my ankle. I'm being a wimp."

"You know, it's okay to be in pain," she smirked at him sideways. What was it with guys thinking they couldn't express that sort of thing? "You don't have to be embarrassed."

His eyes stayed on the ground, but she did catch a smile on his mouth. She reached over confidently and took his arm, looping it over her shoulder.

"I'll be your crutch," she announced brightly, her inner self doing cartwheels at having his arm around her. She felt like that should be pathetic, but not enough to change what she was doing. This was awesome.

"Thanks," he said with genuine gratefulness, leaning on her for support, his arm tightening significantly.

She led him over to the new cannon, which had now already been installed. No one was around it, so she waltzed right up to it with Julian beside her.

"Whoa," the boy breathed, visibly impressed, which caused her to grin brightly. "Where did this come from?"

"We just installed it this morning."

"When are they gonna test it?" he tentatively reached out and ran two fingers along the smooth metal.

Reece shrugged. "I dunno. Eventually, I suppose."

She began to fiddle with it, inspecting every part, and found its fuse easily. An idea popped in her head, and she suddenly perked up, glancing up at Julian.

"I know of a game we can play. Since this one's new and unloaded, it will be perfect. You interested?"

"A game involving a giant ship cannon? Of course I am," he winked at her. She noticed he hadn't removed his arm from her shoulder even after they stopped.

"Alright, well," she said slowly, "I gotta find some matches. Hold on; I'll check the kitchen."

She grudgingly unlooped his arm from her shoulder and bounded off into the cook's kitchen, grabbed the first matchbook she found, and sprinted back to Julian, dodging past a few people who unsurprisingly didn't give her antics a second glance. Julian was leaning against the giant gun, hands at his ankle. He looked to have just finished another spell.

"Healing?" she asked plainly.

He nodded. "It's getting better." He saw the matches in her hands, and he quirked a long, red brow. "What are we doing, exactly?"

"I'll show you," she grinned, and without further warning, struck a match and lit the cannon's fuse.

Julian let out a yelp and reached out, pinching the fuse and suffocating it before it'd even made it half an inch. He shook his forefingers, which had black soot smudged across them now. "What are you doing?!"

"It's a brand new cannon; I'm sure they haven't loaded it yet. Only stuff in there right now is powder and fuse. It'll go boom, but it won't shoot an actual cannonball."

"That doesn't answer my question," Julian snickered.

"It's a game. You basically played it perfectly, I guess. One person lights it, and the other puts it out as promptly as they can. This keeps going until it goes off, and whoever's turn it is when the fuse hits the powder, loses."

"Then this is a game that ends with a bang," Julian grinned. "Has anyone tested the cannon yet?"

"If they had, we'd have heard it." Reece lit another match and held it near the fuse. "Ready?"

The redhead licked his already sooty fingers and wiggled them a little for effect, hunching down near the fuse. "Ready-ready."

Reece lit it, and only a second later, Julian had doused it. He laughed playfully and snatched the matches from her hand.

"My turn." He lit the fuse, and she pinched it. This was a quick fuse; it burned about an inch per second.

They kept going back and forth, voices rising as it steadily got closer and closer to igniting the powder. It was Reece's turn to light the fuse now, and she struck the match and held it for a second, staring at the boy across from her. His eyes were fixed intently on the fire in her fingers, his whole body frozen in anticipation. He looked so happy right now, and another idea popped in her head. She could tell him now. If ever she wanted to tell him the truth, she should do it when he's in this kind of mood. She suddenly panicked, but decided to light the fuse anyway.

As she touched the match to the fuse, her mouth opened to speak.

"Julian, I'm-a-girl," she blurted so quickly that even she wasn't fully sure what she'd said.

Julian should have pinched the fuse, but he paused at those words, eyes darting up to hers. He appeared to freeze up in panic; not because he had forgotten to do his part in the game, but because he appeared to have no idea what to say back.

He blinked once, and when he spoke, his lips barely moved. "What-?"

The fuse met the powder, and the sound was deafening, louder than any of the other cannons Reece had witnessed. The giant gun, if not for being strapped in, would have recoiled across the room. They felt the boom through the floor, and it caused the entire ship to rock slightly once. Reece swallowed back surprise and coughed as dust fell from the ceiling rafters, her wide eyes staring first at Julian, and then peering out of the cannon window. Immediately, she straightened back up and grabbed Julian by the arm, fleeing the scene.

"What is it?" Julian pressed as she dragged him all the way back to his room. "What's wrong?"

Reece closed the door behind her and paced his room. "The uh," she said, fidgeting her hands uncontrollably and laughing nervously. "The cannon was lo-loaded."

"What?!" he yelped, brows shooting upward as he started laughing as well. "What did we shoot?"

"Uh," she fumbled. "We shot the Booty Bay bank."

* * *

_Levianath, 30 minutes earlier._

* * *

"Yo."

Levianath heard his imp's voice and just smirked to himself, ignoring the creature for a moment.

"Hey, boss."

He kept ignoring him. He'd summoned Pip'tai a second ago and had not yet spoken to him.

The imp's voice became annoyed. "What am I doing here, exactly?"

Levianath finished buttoning up a finely-tailored emerald green shirt belonging to the captain and turned around to face Pip'tai, folding the cuffs and sending the demon a charming smile.

"I'm asking a lady to dinner," the dark half-elf hummed calmly, squaring his shoulders and standing up straight. "Now, answer honestly... Should I wear the green, which brings out my eyes, or should I have stayed with the blue one I had on a minute ago? I really can't decide, and need your input."

A few moments of utter silence passed. Levianath bit back laughter as he saw the imp's fire flare up, the creature's face scrunching in indignation.

"YOU BROUGHT ME HERE FOR THAT?" Pip'tai erupted, his voice practically screeching.

Levianath burst into silent laughter, nearly doubling over. After a few fits, the man finally managed to speak. "That was-," he snickered, "that was priceless. Oh, if ever I've called you worthless before, I take it all back."

The imp glared up at him, hands curled into fists. "Boss, I swear, this could only get worse if you had brought me here to tie your gods-damned shoes."

Levianath's brows shot up teasingly. "Matter of fact," he glanced downward, "I do believe my laces are actually getting a bit loose."

Pip'tai growled audibly. "Those don't even _have_ laces, you halfwit."

Levianath winked jokingly and straightened out his shirt. "You know, you're right. I think I'll stick with the green. Thanks, little guy. Couldn't have done it without you."

The imp's face switched from furious to frustrated, and then finally his fel fire died down a little. He shuffled over to a chair and hopped up into it, slumping down into an overly-relaxed slouch. "You know what, someday you're gonna be in a real mess, and you'll summon me up, and I'll just take my damned sweet time getting there. See how useful I am then."

The half-elf chuckled and shrugged, "Without you there to save me, I'd have to call up old Volxak, and he's not nearly as pleasant company as you are."

"That demon hates you," Pip'tai snorted derisively. "And for good reason. You know if you'd just fuse with him like I've taught ya, take his power, then you wouldn't have to summon up his or my help for all your stupid little errands. Breaking locks and creating rafts for drowning teenagers ain't preferable tasks for a demon. And, it'd grant you immediate access to some pretty potent power."

"But breaking locks and drowning teenagers... that's half the fun," Levianath shrugged. "Plus, that would be terribly careless of me, fusing with that demon. I'm not that stupid. I don't have the right training and could lose control. I don't want a demon controlling my actions, as fun as that sounds."

"Could've fooled me," the imp retorted. "You can make that creature do anything you tell it to do. I'd say that's great as far as control goes. Not to mention, Volxak is all brawl and no brain. Angry, all the time. Terrible conversationalist. You two are more alike than you think."

"Ahah," Levianath barked a laugh. "Would you look at that; my minion is a comedian."

Pip'tai bared his teeth, which looked as close to a smile as the creature could get. "So who's the lady you're primping for?"

Levianath opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly the door to the cabin burst open, making way for one of Levianath's least-favorite people of the hour. Captain Wraith Darkrunner swept into the room proudly, and Levianath grimaced. He dismissed Pip'tai immediately, and all of the humor in his demeanor vanished as he stared at his doppelganger.

"What are you doing back?" he bit before the man had a chance to say a word.

Wraith Darkrunner sent Levianath a playful nod of greeting and went straight to his liquor cabinet, pulling out a corked bottle of rum. "I may be a paragon among ship captains, but seems to me that anywhere else, I'm a fish out of water. Thought it'd be best, then, to spend a little bonding time with my son instead of running around in jungles with people far better-equipped for sabotage than I. They have it all under control. I am unneeded."

Levianath made a face again, prickling defensively at being called his 'son' and doing his best to remain cool. This man talked way too much.

Darkrunner poured himself a helping and capped the bottle, then pulled out a chair and sat down at the small table. He motioned for Levianath to sit.

Levianath didn't sit, rather he made a beeline for the door.

"Wait," the ship captain requested, leaning back and sending Levianath a slightly more sincere look. "Please, sit."

He hesitated. "Why?"

The captain let out a sigh, waiting a moment. "I need a chance to redeem myself after...everything."

"Everything, as in you robbing me of my discretion, on pain of death?" Levianath practically spat the words, walking over to stand before the table, directly across from the captain. Who was this man to think he could garner forgiveness simply by sharing a drink and pulling the 'family' card?

Darkrunner inhaled through his nose slowly, and he stood up again, apparently giving up on having a nice chat at the table. "I did what I had to. You must understand, I-"

"Now you're seeking forgiveness through excuses?" Levianath made a face of disgust. "Pathetic."

"I found my ship being captained by my doppelganger; I had no choice."

Levianath's hand hit the table as he practically ignited in anger. "No one forced you to do what you did to me," he hissed.

Stilling, the captain stared at him for a good ten silent seconds, his jaw pulsing. It was evident that this was taking a great deal of self-control for the man to not retaliate. "I...apologize for the truth serum. I didn't think-"

"Precisely," Levianath cut him off again, his arms flexing in restraint as his fists of their own accord tried to grind their way through the tabletop. He was letting his fury about the whole issue finally, truly surface, and it overwhelmed him. He felt torn between burning anger and an odd, unfamiliar urge to let loose a few tears, which only upset him more. His voice wavered, half-growling. "You didn't fucking think."

Wraith craned forward, placing his hands onto the table as well and keeping direct eye contact. "Nevertheless," he finally sighed, "I'd like to propose a truce. We can put all this gnarly business behind us and start fresh. I'd like to get to know my son. Seeing as I've been planning on retiring someday, I'll need a replacement I can trust. We're family, Levianath, and as such I'm begging you to give this another chance."

Levianath's frustration doubled, a nerve jutting out in his neck. His volume raised to a bark. "What the hell gives you the idea that I care at all about you being my father - about us being family at all, for that matter? That means nothing." He spat that last word like a bad taste.

Wraith offered Levianath a helpless look as well as an out-of-place smirk. "You may think so, but you're wrong, Son. I-"

"Don't. Call. Me. That." Levianath growled, practically baring his teeth.

Silence fell. Levianath let out a shuddering breath, trying to regain some of his control as the captain stared at him with an unreadable expression.

"What happened to you?" Wraith finally said, voice so soft it was almost under his breath. "I mean, other than what I've done to you with the truth salts; that was horrible of me, of course, but I'd never expect it to incur such wrath as what you're projecting. Where is this coming from?"

Levianath's upper lip curled against his will.

"You stole truth from my lips even after I had given it, stripped me of my dignity, forced me to endure something I wouldn't wish for my worst enemy, and you wonder why I am angry," he hissed, doing his best to keep his calm but failing. "Well, I am angry at you," he jammed a finger at the man. "I am angry, because two and a half decades ago you made a choice, and that choice brought a son into this world." His voice began to rise, "It killed that boy's mother, forced him to grow up hated by his so-called family, estranged, ostracized, and tormented, all because _you_ got careless!"

He held his breath a moment, then released it. He had no idea where that had all come from; it was just a surprise to himself as it was to the man standing in front of him.

"So, yes, I am angry! I'm furious! I am bitter, and I'm-" He stopped speaking, swallowing sharply and running a hand through his hair, as a lump had formed in his throat.

Darkrunner looked pensive. "I had no idea…"

"It doesn't matter," Levianath muttered, straightening up and smoothing out his shirt. "You can have your cabin back; I'll be gone by dusk." He made for the door.

The captain stepped toward him. "You're leaving?" It almost wasn't a question.

Levianath's sharp eyes flashed back toward the man, and he spoke in a lofty tone. "Seeing as how I have no wish to be strung up by the crew for murdering their captain, I do think it best to remove myself from the temptation."

"What about your friend here, the boy?" The captain coaxed.

"He has his family."

"And you have yours, too, you know," Wraith stated, approaching him further. "I promise you, Levianath, if you give me another chance, you will not regret it."

"Why should I trust your promises?" Levianath sent him a warning glare. "You've done enough already."

He opened the cabin door, but his skin prickled when he felt the captain's hand land on his arm. Defensively, he whipped around and caught Wraith by the throat, slamming his back into the wall and glaring intensely, only a foot apart.

"Never _fucking_ touch me again," Levianath growled.

The captain held his palms up, and he spoke carefully, eyes flashing. "My apologies."

Levianath continued to pin him there, fuming, his dark eyes glaring from under his brows, flicking back and forth between his father's. He finally forcefully relented his grip, practically throwing the man to the side, and the captain rubbed a hand over his neck, which Levianath predicted might end up bruised. He wondered why he hadn't fought back. It almost made him feel guilty, but not enough so that he'd ever change his mind.

He stepped away, eyes falling to the floor. He took in a slow breath and released it shakily, and then looked back up at Wraith.

"This anger is...atypical," he finally confessed, which was probably the closest he could come to an apology. "I should be going."

Darkrunner nodded unenthusiastically, hand still at his neck. "I understand, but if you ever do end up willing to give this a chance, you'll know where to find us."

Levianath resisted a grimace and again made for the door, but a sudden, deafening 'BOOM' cracked through the air, resonating through the floors of the ship and causing Levianath's sensitive ears to ring as he stumbled backward in surprise. That was the sound of cannonfire. The captain looked equally as shocked, and the two of them ran out onto deck only to see that everyone else was also confused.

"Are we being attacked?" One of the sailors shouted, which was one of the only specific phrases Levianath could pick up on amidst the loud shouting.

He frantically searched about, seeing cannon smoke rising from the side of the ship, and peered over the side. It didn't take him long to realize the source of the cannon explosion had been the ship itself, and he looked off in the direction of where the cannon was aiming. His breath left his lungs. The bank in town had been shattered to pieces, and gold coins had been scattered everywhere. Opportunists were scuffling around and scooping up the coins, dodging the Bruisers and creating a steadily-growing riot as more people poured in, going so far as to knock each other off into the water. The entire town was in an uproar.

"Who shot that cannon?" Levianath heard Wraith boom out over the mayhem on deck, and he nearly cowered at the sudden power in the man's voice. Where had that attitude been when Levianath'd had his hand jammed against the guy's throat?

He saw Fiammetta join his side, and he sent her a bewildered look. Her expression was calm despite the chaos, unsurprisingly.

"Where's Reece?" was the first thing she said.

Levianath searched for the cabin boy and Julian, and suddenly realized what Fiammetta was getting at. Of course it could've been those two. They'd been 'grounded,' supposed to stay below deck and out of trouble, but that gave them access to cannons. Certainly they wouldn't have been so reckless?

Immediately, though, Levianath ran below deck, straight to Julian's room. He swung the door open, revealing two wide-eyed characters.

"It wasn't supposed to be loaded!" Reece blurted out before Levianath could even ask them if they were the culprits.

He quickly entered the room and shut the door behind himself, mouth open and eyes astonished as he tried to come up with the right words. He blinked a few times and held his hands out in a 'what the hell' manner.

"Did you see what you did?" he finally erupted, pointing toward the door. "You blew up the bank! What in the world were you two thinking?!"

"It was just a game!" Reece wailed.

Julian sat down on his bed, becoming hysterical. "Reece, we fucked up! We fucked up so bad! They're going to make us walk the plank! We're gonna walk the plank!" He kept repeating it like it was the worst thing to ever happen to him.

Levianath stared at the boy, the sight before him so peculiar that he surprised himself with a sudden laugh. He took a deep breath, let it out sharply, and closed his eyes, shaking his head and unable to stave the smile that'd forced itself onto his lips. He felt bad for scolding them when they clearly were reacting to it worse than he was himself. He didn't even care about the stupid bank; he was just hung up on the bad mood from dealing with Wraith, and he'd let it get to him.

"Julian," he finally groaned, rubbing his hands over his eyes and then down his face exasperatedly. "They're…not going to do that to you. We're literally only fifty yards from shore."

"It wasn't supposed to be loaded," Reece repeated, her voice sounding frantic, and Levianath could see that she was working herself into a frenzy. "I messed up," she breathed. "After everything they've done for me, and this is what I give in return..."

Behind Levianath, the door opened, and he turned to see Fiammetta letting herself in. Her brows raised as she took in the sight of the two culprits becoming hysterical as they kept repeating themselves and basically egging one another on with their hysteria. Levianath gauged Fiammetta's reaction, the way the Troll simply lifted a brow and gave them both a somewhat nonplussed look, and for some reason that tickled him so badly that he began to laugh to himself.

Reece saw Fiammetta and broke. "They're going to kick me off the ship, aren't they?" she squeaked, voice rising. "I won't make it out there on my own! This is my only home!"

Julian reacted to Reece's agitation by raising his own voice as well. "Don't kick Reece off the ship! Reece did nothing wrong! It was my fault! I was in charge of the fuse!"

Levianath covered his animated grin with his forearm as the two ignored everything else and began shouting over one another, fighting about who was in the wrong and who deserved more to be kicked off the ship.

"Hey," Fiammetta said, trying to get them to calm down, "Stop."

They only got louder, all the way to the point of where Julian simply broke down where he was sitting and wailed forlornly, "We're gonna die!"

Levianath's laughter erupted to the point where his sides felt like splitting , and he had to brace himself against the wall. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like this.

Fiammetta sent a look his way, a joking glare to tell him his snickering was helping nothing, and then put two fingers to her mouth and whistled sharply, so loudly that he winced.

Both Julian and Reece faltered, and Fiammetta took a breath.

"NEITHER OF YOU ARE DYING!" she scolded, "and neither of you are getting kicked off this ship, for spirits' sake!" She took a step to the side so that the door was clear, and pointed toward the hall. "Reece, go to your room. Julian, stay right here, and put on a shirt. You two are separated for your own good until this blows over." She looked at Levianath. "Go with Reece and make sure she stays put. I am going to speak with Captain Darkrunner."

Levianath was covering his mouth with a fist to hide his playful smirk, and he just sent her a 'good luck' wiggle of his brows before looping an arm over Reece's narrow shoulders and tugging her out the door. Her room was just down the hall, and once they reached it, he sat her down on the edge of her bed, and then walked over to the frame of her door, crossed his arms, and leaned against it, peering at her with his head cocked and a permanent smile on his mouth.

Reece looked sheepish, if nothing else, and Levianath simply chuckled.

"You're gonna be fine, kid," Levianath reassured her lightheartedly.

Reece reached over and grabbed her pillow, mashed her face in it, and toppled over sideways into her mattress. "I feel so stupid," she said, the words muffled by the pillow, her lanky legs hanging over the side of her bed awkwardly.

He smirked wider. "I think what you two did is absolutely priceless. If it were up to me, I'd reward you."

She sent him a confused look, and he sighed.

"Sorry for my initial reaction, the whole bursting in there and shouting at you. I had a falling-out with the, ah, the captain up there."

Reece removed the pillow from her face and stared at him while still sprawled hilariously across her bed. Some of her scruffy hair fell over her eyes, and she sat up and flipped it out of the way, then listlessly hugged her arms around her stomach. "He's gonna kick me out."

Levianath's head tipped to the side, and he walked over next to her and sat down. "You really think so?"

"I just exploded his favorite town," she groaned, dropping her head in her hands. "I know so."

Levianath gained a fond look, staring at the wooden floor for a moment before reaching over and wrapping an arm over her shoulder in a reassuring squeeze. "Well you know what?"

"What."

_"If_ he kicks you out, he doesn't deserve you in the first place," Levianath hummed. "And coincidentally, I'm already leaving anyways, so... You will never, ever be on your own. I promise you that."

Her head lifted. "You're leaving?"

"Like I said," he sighed matter-of-factly, "Captain and I have...issues. I have some weird anger stuff I need to work out before I can see his face on even a monthly - or yearly - basis."

Reece finally smirked, her tone jokingly sarcastic. "You? Anger? Never."

He laughed aloud and released her from his arm in order to elbow her playfully in the side. "Hey! Careful, I'll flip out on you, too."

She just giggled her boyish, husky laugh, Levianath smiled, and the two of them quieted down.

Some time passed. They sat there in companionable silence, and Levianath, after a few moments of thought, realized that he cared more about the well-being of this kid than that of anyone else on this ship, save for maybe Julian, but it was in a different way. Julian, he considered more of a peer these days; they'd been through so much together, Julian had garnered a deep respect that Levianath had never given to another person. But Reece?

Reece was the little sibling he never had. He'd trade all four of his brothers and sisters for someone even half of what Reece was.

Levianath glanced down at her beside him, a corner of his mouth tugging upward as he saw her wipe her nose with her sleeve gracelessly. He understood in that moment what it was like to feel protective of someone, to feel an unwavering desire to keep them entirely out of harm's way.

As if on cue, following the sound of footsteps outside the door appeared Captain Darkrunner himself, and Levianath stood immediately, practically placing himself between the kid and the elf, even though something told him that was unnecessary.

Darkrunner just peered past Levianath. "Reece, may I speak with you?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Reece hopped off her bed and shuffled to him in a pitiful slouch, stopping beside Levianath. Wraith dipped his head slightly, his intense eyes studying her for a few quiet seconds.

"Reece, what am I to do with you?" he finally said fondly, giving a silent, breathy chuckle on the last few words. "The Silverpaw boy told me everything, and although I am disappointed, I am not going to kick you off this ship."

Reece let out a breath of relief. "You promise?"

The captain laughed. "Reece," he smiled, opening his arms and shaking his head, sounding almost fatherly, "You're my girl! You're not going anywhere." He brought her in for a tight, brief hug, and then sighed. "However, my first mate and I have come to an agreement on a better way for you and Julian to pass your time. I heard you two are prone to mischief, so we're sending you to work for Shuuja in the kitchen."

The girl gained a look of pleading. "What? Work for the cook? I don't even know how to cook, Captain."

"I'm sure she'll find something to keep you two busy, and out of trouble," he chuckled.

Reece nodded finally, accepting her fate with no further argument.

The captain walked out of her room, followed by the kid and the half-elf as he spoke. "Due to the mishap with the bank, we've been ordered to vacate the bay, so I'll be leaving behind a few sailors to pass on word to the four still in the jungle that we're headed to Stormwind and to rendezvous there."

"Stormwind?" Levianath spoke up curiously. "Why there?"

"To sell cargo, drop you and Julian off, and to await word on the Saltsprocket campsites. Then, depending on the news, we're headed to Ratchet port."

His brows lifted. This was convenient, actually. Instead of trying to find his way back to Stormwind from Booty Bay, he'd hitch a ride on this ship, then head to the banks in Stormwind to retrieve his money. From that point on, he was free to leave.

It was a good plan, and took little-to-no work on his part. Win-win.

The captain stopped by Julian's room, and folded his arms, speaking to Reece. "Now, grab your friend, and head to the kitchen right away."

Reece grinned at him, fully recovered, her freckled cheeks dimpling. "Yes, sir!" she saluted him exaggeratedly and skipped into Julian's room.

Wraith sent Levianath a partial, sober flicker of a smile, dipped his head politely, and headed up the stairs. Levianath let out a heavy sigh as he felt the ship picking up speed, leaving the bay behind.

Just a few more days and they'd be in Stormwind. He'd never been so relieved to return to that city.

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**Coming soon: Potatoes, confessions, Stormwind, siblings, Sarion vs. Levianath, and a possibly-unexpected character cameo.**


	14. Problem Solved

**Somewhat-belated merry Christmas and happy holidays to everyone. :)**

**Responses:**

**Ophianara Blade: Hey there! Thank you! :) And yes, we'll have a discussion between him and his father that'll help clear up some of what's going on. Hopefully Levianath can handle it. :D**

**Zarabethe: We can expect nothing less from those two. xD **

**CherryMountain: Huh, basically the only parts I updated in this chapter were the 'potato peeling' and 'confessions'. But yes! Next chapter is Stormwind, as long as my plans follow through with the writings. :D**

**Kintara: Of course, kitchen punishment MUST be potatoes! It's the rules!**

**Raftina: Haha! 3 imps indeed! And Sarion vs. Levianath is going to be really interesting, in my opinion. I'm not sure how anyone else will take it, but it's... different. I'm really excited. **

**ToxicStar: Oh it was DEFINITELY loaded! Bwahaha!**

**Willowstar: Well, uh, the thing is, upon finishing this chapter, any ideas of a love triangle are all but hurled out the window. xD Because of Levianath and...well, I'll let you read it. **

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**So, forewarning, this chapter gets a little steamy. I mean, depending on how you define steamy. It's only T-rated, but I got carried away. Upon editing, I ended up taking some parts out, if that says anything.**

**Also, this is a long chapter. I had a whole lot more but cut it in half. Sorry to those of you who don't prefer the long chapters!**

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Levianath inhaled abruptly as he awoke, feeling exceptionally nauseous, and he blinked his eyes and sat up. His surroundings were completely dark; he'd last night taken up residence on Julian's floor for the time being (seeing as Captain Darkrunner was back, Levianath had refused to stay in the man's cabin), and for some reason sleeping on that floor, combined with the rocking of the ship, evidently gave him immense seasickness.

He let out a heavy breath and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he stared through the dark, his emerald green eyes piercing the shadows. He glanced to the side. Julian was snoozing in his bed, curled in the fetal position. The boy had worked in the kitchen all evening with Reece as 'penance,' though Levianath was fairly sure neither of them had minded it all that much. He knew the captain had given them the task to keep them out of further trouble, more than anything else.

The ship then surged over a particularly great swell in the ocean, and he held his breath a moment as his stomach seemed to do the same. Once he felt well enough to stand, he hoisted himself up and left the room. He needed fresh air.

He could hear music, something he hadn't heard in a while. Sounded like the mixture of a flute and some sort of stringed instrument. It was a lively tune, and as he came upon the central room beneath the deck, he saw a crowd of workers. He started to walk by many of the deckhands standing around below deck and then paused once he'd passed them, glancing back toward the crowd. They were all lounging about, not sleeping, but relaxing and enjoying the music, which was being played by two simple workers. A good majority were smoking one way or another, and a few pairs of eyes, female and male, met Levianath's when he turned around.

Levianath locked eye contact with one man, a human who appeared not a day over thirty, and approached him calmly. The man sent Levianath a nonchalant nod of acknowledgement, and Levianath him.

"How did you come to be on this ship?" Levianath asked the human plainly.

The guy sniffed once and wiped his nose on the crook of his elbow, and leaned his back against a beam, sitting on a pile of crates with one leg swinging down and the other propped up.

"Cap'n Darkrunner," he retorted. "That man saved me life."

Levianath squinted his eyes and glanced at a woman beside the man. "And you?"

"Ditto. Most of us was slaves 'til he showed his handsome face and took us in."

"And are you permitted to leave his employment at any time?"

"'Course!" piped a Troll from the left, standing up straight (or as straight as most Trolls stand) and approaching Levianath. "But why would we? Captain Darkrunner be da best thing dat ever happened to any of us. Gave us shelter 'n food, gave us purpose and family." The Troll's slanted yellow eyes seemed to be smiling themselves.

"Gave you family?" Levianath echoed.

"Aye," cut in the woman. "Family. We may bicker and want to kill one another on occasion, but this crew's my family, through thick and thin."

Many of the surrounding sailors began to jeer and laugh at her teasingly, a few of them faking overdramatic tears, and she simply laughed and shoved one or two of them when they crowded her in their antics. She shook her head at one guy who'd been laughing at her the loudest.

"Even you, Rodney, you big teddy bear!"

The one she'd called Rodney, a massive human with skin the color of the night sky, let out a booming laugh and reached out and pulled her into what looked like a mixture between a hug and a choke hold, thus beginning a brawl. As they began to grapple and the surrounding pirates began to cheer and shout, Levianath heard a voice sound at his ear.

"I see you've met the A.M. crew," he recognized the dry-yet-musical tone of Fiammetta and turned his head. He had half a mind to avert his gaze when he met the Troll's intense stare. Even though she seemed in a friendly mood, those eyes of hers gave him an electric jolt every time he caught them. It was simultaneously incredibly attractive and equally terrifying.

But, he kept eye contact and even offered a subtle smile. "What are you doing awake?"

"I rarely sleep," she answered simply.

He watched her a moment longer, and she spoke again.

"You look pale. Are you sick?"

"A little nausea is all."

She beckoned him with one finger to follow and took him into a storage room, then pulled out a jar, uncapped it, and handed him a thin slice of what was inside. It smelled strongly of spice, burning his nose a little.

"Ginger," she said. "Eat it. It will help."

He popped the slice in his mouth. The taste was strong, almost overpowering, but hopefully effective. He sent her a nod of thanks as he chewed it slowly, the root's fibers surprisingly juicy.

She nodded back. "Well, I'm glad I found you awake. Come, I'd like to show you something."

He followed her, leaving behind the sounds of brawling and music below as they went above deck and into the night air. A few workers kept at the sails and the wheel, but all seemed to be calm and quiet. The two were in solitude, and the unseen sailors paid no heed to them. Fiammetta led him over to one edge of the ship, then stopped and turned toward him.

He sent her a playful smirk. "You're not tossing me over the side, are you?"

Her brows lifted for a moment as if seriously considering, and then she just shook her head.

"Come," she beckoned with her hand and turned toward the water again.

Levianath peered out over the endless, vast body of water surrounding them on all sides. There was nothing but water as far as he could see, its surface reflecting the light of the diamond-like stars flickering in the sky. A strong wind had caught the sails overhead, and it played at both Levianath's and Fiammetta's long, dark hair.

Levianath followed the direction she'd pointed and stared hard into the water, but saw nothing. "What is it?"

"The moon is full," she commented, nodding her head toward the massive globe in the night sky. "When the moon is full, the sea sprites emerge. Look there," she pointed down into the water.

Levianath looked again, and then he finally saw what it was she was talking about. Just under the surface, a glimmer of gold, and then an iridescent purple and shimmer of green. He began to see them everywhere, filling the water and darting about at random, making way for the ship and following alongside it. As he leaned both hands against the railing, he felt himself staring, losing himself in watching the surface of the water shine and shimmer and move in a complicated dance. It was one of the most fascinating, beautiful things he'd ever seen, and he didn't understand it at all. He'd never seen the water spirits before; matter of fact, he'd never heard of them. He felt like witnessing this was a gift that not many people were lucky enough to receive.

Finally one of the sprites broke the surface, leaping out of the water in an ethereal, gleaming explosion of color before dipping back under. Levianath, after watching for a while, realized that a smile had stretched across his face, and he turned his gaze to Fiammetta only to find out she'd been watching him, not the water. He let out a laugh.

"This is… superb. Thank you for showing me."

He had no idea why she was being so polite to him now. Up until this point, she had been all 'do this, do that,' and Miss Bossy-Pants. Of course, a part of him was irresistibly attracted to 'Miss Bossy-Pants,' but that was entirely beside the point. His level of attraction to her bossiness was on par with an equal level of irritation. Either way, his feelings regarding her were fairly potent.

She smiled back at him, and immediately his eyes fell to her tusked lips. That true smile on her face was one of the most pleasant things he'd ever had the gift of witnessing, and it stole the words from his mouth. She'd just transformed from straight from stark, serious Fiammetta to some wild, free, exotic creature, with nothing more than a quirk of her lips.

A further surprise washed over him when she let her hand fall on his on the railing. Her fingers were warm against his own, as Trolls tended to be, and callused in many places yet still soft. This was a new Fiammetta, and Levianath had no idea how to react to it, nor did he know where this conversation was headed. He couldn't think straight, not with the combination of the breathtaking look on her face, plus her hand on his stealing his focus. No other person had ever had such an effect on him as she did right now, not even the woman he'd once married.

She stared at him intensely as always, her smile fading but remaining within her eyes. "I overheard the 'conversation' between you and your father."

He let out a breath, glancing down at the water again. "That so?" He felt himself putting up walls immediately and resisted the urge to pull his hand out from under hers. Something about her set her apart from anyone else he knew, and part of him understood that that was a good thing. He didn't want to push her away, despite every past experience he'd had telling him to do so.

"He has his reasons not to trust people, just like you do," she finally said. "The whole issue about you imitating him… It's happened before."

The half-elf's dark brows tightened. "What do you mean?"

"He's had impersonators in the past. He is a coveted, powerful figure and has a lot to lose. You're not the first one he's caught. I'm not saying that excuses him from what he did, but I will say he was justified in his distrust."

A few seconds of silence fell, and the Troll cleared her throat.

"If there is one difference between the two of you that I can clearly see, it is that his past has shaped him to rely on those he calls family, and that yours has shaped you to rely solely upon yourself. You two cannot appreciate one another until you recognize and accept that you're opposites. You will be fire and oil without that understanding. I've already seen that much. Wraith genuinely wants to form a bond with you, one he feels robbed of after not knowing you existed your entire life. I can say with full certainty that had the man known of you, he'd have gone to Stormwind and sought you out without hesitation. He did not choose to neglect you."

Levianath stared at the sprites as they danced about under the moonlight, mulling over Fiammetta's words.

She sighed, and continued, "And although you may not want anything to do with _him_ specifically, there is far more for you here than an attempt at mending a scattered family."

As if on cue, another sprite shot out of the water right next to the boat, flashing up in front of the two of them in a glittery mirage of vibrant, reflective colors, and then dropped down into the water.

"And what is it you believe is here for me?" he turned to her, his voice weaker than he'd intended. He was fully aware of her hand on his still, distracting him, and he offered a delicate smile with one side of his mouth as he pulled his hand from hers and stuffed both his hands in his pockets. "I can only think of a small handful of things that I truly want, and only one of those is on this ship."

She appeared lost. "That being?"

He gained a somewhat playful edge and tilted his head to the side slightly as he stared at her. "Take a guess."

He saw her eyes flicker to an understanding, and a slight smirk fell into place. "Oh."

Levianath waited a second, tuning into her confusion. "I know, I know what you're thinking: where did _that_ come from? We're supposed to despise each other. I know no more than you." He laughed and cracked his knuckles on his left hand therapeutically.

She didn't say anything, just watched him with that calculating look on her face, urging him to keep talking, so he finally did.

"I...haven't known you long, and I'm sure you probably hate me due to all the shit I've tossed at you since your crew dragged me out of the water. Maybe it's because I don't respond well to authority, and you're...well, you're pretty authoritative. But I'm...learning. Or at least trying. I know I'm not the easiest person to tolerate most of the time, and I tend to be a bit unpredictable, but..."

He paused and eyed her sideways. Why the hell was he talking so much all of a sudden? He never talked this much at once _ever,_ not in his right mind.

Fiammetta observed him with an unreadable look on her face. He cleared his throat and peered down into the water lightheartedly.

"I don't know where I'm going with this."

She still didn't respond, and his eyes flicked up to her face again, only to see that it held a look of humor, almost like she was challenging him somehow. Perhaps it was just her resting face, he could never tell. He smiled to himself and glanced back out over the water.

"Don't give me that look. You can't break me further, even with those eyes of yours. I've said what I need to, and if I talk any more, I'll certainly start babbling."

His peripherals caught a grin breaking across her face as she looked down at the ground, and then back up at him. He kept his stare forward, mostly just to remain levelheaded, but he did continue to smirk to himself at her smile. He liked that smile. It was far too rare.

He voiced that opinion, and her smile flickered a little at receiving the compliment. Upon seeing this, he gave a soft, defeated sigh through his nose.

"Unwanted compliments no longer become compliments," he said, dropping his act. "I'll ease off the flirtation, if you wish."

"Who said they were unwanted?" she replied without skipping a beat, her voice somewhat flirtatious itself.

He lifted his chin a hint, eyeing her slyly for a moment, mouth parted as if about to speak but no words escaping.

"You know what, Levianath?" The Troll finally spoke up, and he inhaled slightly. It was rare she had referred to him by his first name, and the sound of it was pleasant. "I will be honest; you are simultaneously one of the most irritating and the most tempting people I have ever met." She smirked playfully at her next statement. "And just so you're clear, I still haven't forgiven you for catching the ship on fire."

Levianath offered her a humorous, flashy look.

"Tempting?" he uttered teasingly, everything else she'd said flying right over his head. "I am tempting?" He kept his voice purposefully rich and thick, his expression practically dripping with mischief as he ever-so-slightly leaned in toward her. "How so?"

"Perhaps I'm confusing temptation with frustration," she bit back without skipping a beat, the potency behind the look in her eyes almost stealing his thoughts and causing him to falter for a half second.

He recovered and chuckled aloud. "I'd say those are one and the same. Both are formidable powers in great doses. Both tend to reap the same benefits when given free reign." He wiggled his brows jokingly.

Fiammetta watched him, and he her, their expressions mirroring one another's: engaging, slightly humored, and even a little suggestive, if he was reading it correctly. Maybe it was just him. Maybe not?

The woman broke first and shook her head. "So, this conversation has fully derailed," she finally snorted.

Levianath broke into a full grin, watching her wordlessly. She watched him back, and after a few seconds, Levianath broke the growing tension and yawned widely. It was the middle of the night, after all.

Fiammetta sighed. "You need to head back down and get some sleep," she commented lightly, switching the subject.

"No I don't, I'm not tired."

He didn't know why he said that. He _was _tired. Was it because she'd _told_ him to do it? He mentally kicked himself. He needed to quit being so obstinate.

She seemed to think the same as him, and her expression became somewhat testing.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You're so..." she paused, trying to find the right word, mildly frustrated and equally humorous. "You're so contrary. Anything anyone says that could in any way be dictative, you do the opposite. It's so...aggravating."

She'd basically just read his mind, which he should've appreciated, but she'd done so in a way that challenged him, and he squared his shoulders.

"As opposed to _you_," he retorted bluntly, his quick tongue getting the best of him, "who cannot resist being absolutely in charge of everyone. Take a chill pill once in a while; it may do you some good."

That must have hit a nerve.

Fiammetta's eyes flashed brazenly, and she took a step toward him, a powerful aura in her movement, possibly effortlessly so. "Say what you may," she said, staying level in her tone and still retaining some of the humor she'd held earlier, though it'd lost its softness and was more brash. "But I am the commanding officer on this ship. And although you may be considered a guest here, you will still answer to me. Don't make the mistake of confusing my tolerance for weakness, and most of all do not assume you can tell _me_ what to do."

"So authoritative," Levianath purred, goading her purposefully. It was far too easy to push her buttons, as was with most people. "You should try relinquishing that authority over now and then. It can be...refreshing." He emphasized the last word.

She seemed to pause for a half-second, eyes suddenly betraying every little thought running wild through her mind, before she straightened up and sent him a daring glare. "You couldn't handle it. You'd get burned."

"Oh, no, not _me,"_ he added as dismissively as he could and held his hands up. "I'd suggest going for someone like-" He paused, tugging at his brain for the name of someone he'd seen downstairs earlier. It came to him in only a split second, "-like Rodney, seeing as I'll be off this ship in a few days. He seems a _capable_ fellow." He bit back a smile as her expression flicked to a miffed confusion.

"Rodney?"

"Your crewsman. I encountered him tonight. Great behemoth of a man, beloved by all. You _really_ need to unwind if you can't even remember the names of your crew."

Her glare intensified. She seemed an equal mixture of humored and nearly furious, the way her blue eyes had ignited.

Levianath cracked his neck to the side and sent her a roguish smirk, stepping toward her as well. They were a mere foot apart, equal in height and staring one another down.

"You know what I think?" he taunted.

She perked one brow, cocking her head, jaw pulsing once.

He brought himself infinitesimally closer, trying hard to ignore the nearly-mesmeric scent that caressed his nose upon drawing near to her. His eyes were locked with hers. "I think you are all bark and no bite. You tell people what to do and they follow your orders and it's all great, but when someone like me comes along and ruffles your feathers, you do nothing but bark louder. You don't know what else to do. So actually, I think I _do_ have the right to tell you what to do, just as much as you do to me. Until I see a reason to, I will not heed a thing you say. You are in no way better than me, First Mate."

A corner of her mouth tugged upward spitefully. "Weren't you just ten minutes ago saying something about swallowing that ego of yours?"

"Yes, well," Levianath shrugged one shoulder, "until that becomes a mutual action, I say tough luck."

She let out a breath and shook her head. "You don't want to test me."

"Don't I?" he stared at her tauntingly, "I don't see you doing a thing about it."

"You really want to do this?" she warned him, straightening, her eyes dancing between his as if welcoming a challenge.

He raked his teeth along his lower lip once, eyes gleaming. "Unlike you," he countered, "I very much do."

"Fine," she lifted her chin, finally breaking into a cheeky, goading grin. "You asked for it."

Levianath didn't have another second to spare before the Troll had, in a matter of two swift movements, knocked him onto his back. Air abandoned his lungs and left him stunned. He sucked in a breath and was quick to respond, though, and as he sensed her reach to pin him, he rolled twice to the side and nimbly hopped back up onto his feet.

"Lucky strike," he chuckled comically.

"That one was a freebie," she bit back.

The two exchanged heated glares before engaging in a complicated dance of dodging and lurching. Fiammetta sent a sweep toward his legs, and he jumped backward, allowing her to just barely graze his outer thigh before he retaliated swiftly, catching her by the forearm and yanking her toward him in order to get the upper hand. She stumbled forward as he'd hoped, and he ducked low and swept her feet out from under her. She let out an 'oof' as her back hit the ground. She lithely somersaulted backward and used the momentum to spring up, then launched herself forward, caught him by the waist and gracelessly tackled him to the ground.

Levianath grunted at the impact, dazed as his head came in contact with the deck. He had half a mind to cheat and call upon his spells. This wasn't looking promising for him.

For a brief second, he caught sight of the look in the fiery Troll's eyes, and he saw she was enjoying this far more than she should be. She seemed more alive now than ever before, and that was saying something.

They grappled a moment, rolling one another, trying to get the upper hand. Each of them received an elbow or two to the face, and Levianath could taste blood from where his teeth had hit the inside of his lip, the cut beginning to swell and trickle blood out of a corner of his mouth.

He licked his lips and tasted iron. This merely fueled him further.

The man released a growl and finally brought up one knee that knocked her off balance, shoving her off of him. He hopped to his feet and, as he waited for her to regain her bearings, bounced on the balls of his toes once or twice, shaking out his arms and cracking the vertebrae in his neck.

She stood as well, and the two then circled one another while attempting to regain their breath, watching one another from under their long brows.

"Are you finished yet?" Fiammetta panted as Levianath wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, noting the still-escaping blood that stained it.

He let out a breath, his parted, swelling lips forming a wry smile. "Just getting started here, sugar."

She released a harsh, single laugh and rushed him again.

They scuffled at odds until both were entirely out of breath, bruised, and somewhat bloody. As Fiammetta came in for one last attack, Levianath released a grunt when his back slammed hard into the wall of the bow-side cabin. She held him by his shirt, hands gripped firmly into the loose fabric that had now been ripped in a few areas and slightly bloodied. Only a moment later Levianath realized he'd gripped her by the arms, ready to throw her off him if she tried anything. They had come to an impasse, both of them pinning each other in place.

At their proximity he could sense the heat of her labored breath against his own mouth, and he swallowed hard as his eyes flicked to her lips. The two were inches apart at best, panting, their bodies exhausted but minds at full power, and Levianath's vivid eyes, as they fell onto Fiammetta's blue stare, flickered from a challenging flame to a dark smolder. The tension here was palpable, giving him a run for his money. He couldn't think past the invasion of his senses that was this exotic half-Troll, and found himself wanting to crush her and kiss her at the same time.

He felt her fists in the cloth of his shirt tighten further as he subconsciously angled in closer and brought her in a half-inch by her arms, the two of them breathless in their stalemate. Their eyes darted between each other. A moment of absolute, frozen hesitation hit them both, before he felt her shove him hard against the wall, like she was ready to start up again.

Suddenly, and without much thought, instead of shoving her away, Levianath brought the half-Troll flush against himself and crashed his lips to hers almost viciously, wrapping the fingers of one hand up into her thick, coarse royal blue hair. Her full lips were velvety and somehow sweet like fruit. He sensed her small tusks begin raking along the sides of his own mouth as she kissed him back, and he felt his heart jump at her reciprocation.

Then she paused, though, and pushed herself back a step, breaking their kiss. His eyes darted between hers in an odd mixture of desire and confusion. On the contrary, the woman appeared uncertain.

Levianath, although he couldn't step backward due to the wall behind him, did disengage. He relaxed back.

"You're right. That was out of line," he murmured, maneuvering himself out from between her and the wall. He'd only made it a foot to the side before she made him pause.

"One thing you should know about duels," she said, voice still commanding, and he stared at her.

"What's that?"

She neared him challengingly. "Never let your guard down."

The man's brows lowered, and he tilted his head at her defiantly. She wanted to keep fighting? After what just happened? Fine.

He rolled his sleeves, and his hands clenched into fists, which she noticed with a glance.

She came at him again, but he was prepared for her next move. He caught her by the shirtsleeve of one arm and dodged to the side, then attempted to strafe sideways to avoid a recoil from her. Her recoil came, but not in the way he'd expected it to. She dropped her guard, and when a very fed-up Levianath took the chance and sent his fist toward her, she whipped one hand out and caught his forearm in an iron grip.

He made to wrench his hand away from her, but before he could do so, every thought was whisked from his mind when _she_ suddenly drew him in by his arm and kissed _him. _For a moment he was frozen in surprise, and the first thought that finally surfaced was one of suspicion. This woman was using this kiss as a trick somehow. He had to stay vigilant, in case... In case she was... His thoughts began to scatter.

She was...

She was kissing him, almost violently so, and Levianath couldn't resist it even if he'd wanted to.

He gave in fully, allowing a dark rumble of approval to escape from his chest, and caught her lower lip in his teeth, now cornering _her_ against the wall.

The tables had turned. It was as if the duel hadn't ended with their kiss; rather, it had simply taken a different form. Their bodies had engaged in an escalating battle of their own, the occasional bite here and there (slightly painful due to the cut on his lip) reaching the point of where Levianath almost couldn't stand it, his hands gripping her tighter to him. A fire burned in him that couldn't be doused, roaring in his ears and blocking out everything but her. Her scent was irresistible, as well as the taste of her lips and the feeling of her hands curling into his hair. The only thing standing between him and what he desired was a few layers of flimsy fabric, and this thought amplified his actions.

He caught her demanding growl as she shoved him against the railing of the ship, the sole thing preventing them from toppling overboard being that of the vertical netted rope stretching from the ship's edge to the mast that held it taut. He felt her hands begin to travel, and he exhaled a sharp breath, becoming almost faint. She knew what she was doing.

His own hands had just slid their way up under her silky shirt when he heard a loud thump across the deck and a harshly-whispered expletive coming from the source.

Fiammetta immediately pulled away a full step, forcing his hands to drop. He peered past her toward the sounds, only to see none other than Reece tugging on Julian's shirt, lifting the boy from the floor where he'd apparently tripped. The two teenagers appeared dumbstruck, mouths agape, two sets of eyes glancing between Levianath and Fiammetta.

Levianath exhaled a breathless laugh, resigning a little and allowing Fiammetta to handle this. She'd prefer to do so, anyways.

Fiammetta's voice was slightly uneven and breathy when she spoke, which gave him a streak of smug pride he couldn't shake. If this woman had been affected the way she was projecting that she had, he'd done something right.

"What are you two doing up?" the troll asked the frozen teenagers.

Levianath, knowing Julian and Reece couldn't see half of him behind the half-troll, took advantage of this and began feather-lightly teasing a hand down the small of the woman's curved waist. Under his fingers, he felt a delicate shudder run down her spine as she resisted any visible reaction; she wouldn't give what he was doing away to the two teenagers standing across the deck. It was all he could do to keep from breaking into a betraying smile, as he could see by the ghosting smile on her mouth that she too was doing her best to ignore him.

"Uh, well, you see," Reece said, clearly attempting to recover from what she'd just encountered. "We're doing... nothing. I mean we were... just about to go to bed actually." She exaggerated a yawn and elbowed Julian in the side.

Julian startled, but then without further hesitation stretched his arms out wide, bullshitting his own yawn as well. "Right," he said with distorted speech while his fake yawn turned into a real one, "we weren't doing anything. Especially not something dangerous or troublesome or...anything. She was just...getting me...a glass of water." The boy was clearly coming up with it on the spot, although he'd spoken with a little more confidence. Levianath almost would've believed him, but he knew better.

Reece nodded. "Yeah, just some water. No need for worry."

"The water barrels are downstairs," the woman folded her arms. Levianath burst into silent laughter at this. Those two couldn't even lie properly.

"Are they?" Reece squeaked. "Fancy that!"

Fiammetta just shook her head and sent them both a hopeless shrug. "Fine, fine, just...go back to bed, both of you, and forget this ever happened."

"Oh we didn't see anything," Reece blurted. "Especially nothing between you two, I mean, that would be crazy." She laughed nervously, and Julian joined in the laughter without a word, far too loudly.

"Yes, absolutely crazy," Levianath purred, eyes flicking over to Fiammetta, his hand daring to travel a _little_ lower. Fiammetta threw him a playful glance, almost nonexistent, before looking back at Julian and Reece.

"Shoo," she ordered, and Julian practically stumbled over Reece as the two retreated below deck.

Levianath just barely caught conversation as they disappeared. Julian's fading, muffled voice was regretful.

"Damn, I wish we hadn't gotten caught. That would have been so much fun."

"Maybe tomorrow," Reece's fading voice promised.

Honestly he didn't even care to know what those two'd had planned before getting caught. The moment the door shut, Fiammetta turned to face him. The pools of her eyes burned intensely into his, and she took in a deep breath, regaining her bearings.

"I'm going to bed," she stated directly. "And you are, as well. You will join me, or you will go sleep on your friend's floor again. I'm allowing you a decision." Her eyes flashed. "Compromising is fun."

In this special case, Levianath was not remotely put off by her ordering him around, and his fel eyes ignited beguilingly as he took her up on her offer. "You may not have won this war, first mate, but you've certainly won this battle. I'm all yours."

An audacious smile broke across her lips, confident and smug.

"Excellent choice," she hummed in her rough, Trollish tone, looping her fingers into his belt and tugging him toward her cabin.

He returned with his perfected, devilish grin and sauntered along into her quarters.

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

"Any better?" Reece piped brightly, and Julian wiggled his fingers a little, noting that the small off-white bandage on his left thumb was snug.

"It's great, thanks."

This was the third bandage the cabin boy had dressed on Julian's hand in the last day and a half. Peeling potatoes, as it turned out, was not exactly the cleanest nor the least-hazardous of jobs for the clumsy hands of Julian Silverpaw. He'd nicked his fingers countless times with his knife, but three separate times it'd been bad enough that he had required first aid. Reece, on the other hand, was a natural and her talented hands had stayed free of the sharp of her blade.

The cook, a rough Orc woman by the name of Shuuja, had been more than indifferent to the two troublemakers. She'd told them to 'just peel the potatoes and get outta my face,' any time they went to her to receive orders, so they'd just stopped asking her for jobs and had simply resigned to peeling potatoes as their fate. It was all they did for hours at a time. And although Julian should have hated it by now, he realized there wasn't much else he'd rather be doing. It gave him hours upon hours with Reece Black, so he couldn't complain.

Well, he _could_ complain about how starchy and dry his hands were becoming after peeling so much or how everything everywhere now smelled like salt and potatoes, but that wasn't such a big deal.

Reece grabbed a potato out of the crates and dipped it in seawater, then began peeling it. "So how d'you say 'thanks' in Darnassian?"

"Dalah grat'alah," he hummed as he too began to peel again.

Reece paused a second. "Dalah means 'my'..." she glanced at him, and he nodded at her encouragingly. "And 'alah' is 'to you.' So... 'grat' means...thanks?"

He nodded.

She cocked her head. "'Thank you,' in common translates to 'My thanks to you,' in Darnassian?"

"It's more... 'my thanks are yours,'" Julian replied, "which we generally just interpret as, 'you have my thanks,' or simply, 'thanks.'"

"Ah," she nodded understandingly. Julian smiled to himself. She'd become curious about the language, and with not much else to do, Julian had volunteered to give her phrases. She was picking it up incredibly well. After a day and a half, she was able to speak some broken fragments that many others would have taken far longer to catch onto.

"Dalah grat'alah," she repeated to herself under her breath a few times. She smiled at him, finishing her potato and moving onto another. All the peeled potatoes were tossed into a massive barrel. "It's got a nice ring to it. Fun to say."

Julian smiled, rhythmically shearing the skin from the potato in his hand, before suddenly his knife slipped from his finger, and he nicked the same thumb again. He let out a sharp hiss and dropped the vegetable, swearing to himself.

"I keep doing this!" he grunted, noting how deep the cut was. Blood had begun to gush from his finger and down his wrist.

Reece released a sound equally packed with sympathy and amusement. "How many times 'til you learn to keep your thumb down, Songbird?" She fetched another bandage as he drew healing spells. His meager spells wouldn't heal fully, not the deep cuts, but they'd stave bleeding.

He watched her as she tirelessly tended to his painful thumb. She was still as boyish as ever and neither of them had actually brought up the fact that she was a girl. Julian realized that through all the anxiety and pressure on the both of them to come clean about the whole issue, now that it'd finally been thrown out into the open, it ended up being nothing. They'd acted no differently around one another. It wasn't awkward or weird for either of them. She was just...Reece, and he liked Just Reece. They'd both really grown the issue out of proportion.

Deciding to address that, Julian cleared his throat.

"So I kind of already knew you were a girl when you told me," he confessed, and her dark, chocolate eyes lifted to his.

"What? Really?"

"Levianath was under truth salts when he told me." He gave her a partial smile.

Reece, to his relief, simply let out a cheery laugh. "You knew since then? Well that would've made things so much easier!" she huffed, nudging him with her arm. "With Levianath pressuring me to tell you the truth and all, it was dragging me down."

"He pressured you to tell the truth?" Julian lifted a brow. "He did the same to me. Now that I say that out loud, that's so _not_ Levianath to do that."

"To do what?"

"Advocate for truth," Julian snickered.

Reece simply laughed her boyish laugh, and Julian shrugged.

"Honestly, though," he tilted his head. "I'll admit it was a major shock to discover it at first, but..." He trailed off.

She watched him knowingly, finishing his thought. "But it really didn't change much, did it? Either that or you are just an incredibly good liar-slash-actor."

He chuckled. "No, I swear, the only acting I was doing was referring to you as a boy. Which I still have to do anyways."

"Good," she nodded and smiled cheerfully and grabbed another potato, returning to her job. Julian played with the wrapping on his fingers for a while, trying to draw up the courage to pick up his knife and keep peeling. He knew he would cut himself again, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

As Reece kept working, she spoke up. "So when we get back to Stormwind, what will you do?"

Julian watched at the potato in her hands, and watched the way her hands worked without her having to think. She had small hands, he thought to himself absently. He cleared his throat. "I have no idea. I mean I guess I could just go home, to my family."

She nodded understandingly. "You have a sister, right? Nyela?"

"Yes, that's right," Julian nodded, a smile tugging at his mouth that Reece had remembered the name. She was a lot more observant than he could ever hope to be.

He hadn't thought much on his sister, but now that he had, he felt a tugging at his heart. He missed her, and he missed his infant nephew twins. He missed his baby brother, Finn. It'd been months on months since he'd seen his family. Of course, his parents had helped ease that longing a little with their surprise arrival, but he still wished to see Nyela. She hadn't come along with Sarion and her parents because she was preoccupied with caring for her twin boys. Julian would admit, it was still a little weird thinking of her as a mom; in his eyes, she'd always be the target of his mischief, the sister whom he'd pester to no end. They were three years apart, but Julian had always viewed her as his peer, especially once he'd reached his teen years. So Nyela becoming a mother had shaken him, if nothing else giving him a wake-up call that he really was lagging behind her as far as maturity went.

Reece peered at his expression. "You miss her."

Julian's eyes were far away, but he tugged himself back to the present. "Lots," he nodded, smiling.

"Do you have any brothers?"

"One, younger. A baby. He's about...nine months old now?" Julian let out a surprised breath. "I'll bet he's grown tons."

Reece beamed at this, and Julian looked over at her.

"What about you?"

"What?"

"Family? Got any brothers or sisters? I've never heard you mention anyone."

"I had a brother once," she replied lightly, suddenly appearing highly invested in the potato she was peeling. "He died, though, when I was thirteen."

Julian swallowed hard, staring at her. She seemed fine, but he felt his heart tugging and constricting painfully. He wanted to hug her or something, but that seemed unneeded. For some reason, even though they were literally always together other than when sleeping, the two of them rarely had any form of physical exchanges, not even hugs, and he thought it would be weird to start that now. Her demeanor was entirely normal, not sad or anything, whereas Julian was internally falling to pieces just standing there staring at her.

With his silence, she finally looked over at him. He'd frozen and was gazing steadily at her, unsure of what to say. She let the corners of her mouth keep a soft smile.

"He was older than me by a few years. I looked up to him. He was basically my idol."

Julian tightened his jaw once, staring at her, and then cleared his throat. "Wh..what was his name?" he asked meagerly. What in the heck was he supposed to say when talking to her about her dead brother? He felt it'd be horribly tactless of him to inquire the nature of the brother's death unless she willingly gave it, so he'd said the only normal question in his mind.

Her eyes flicked to his as she looked momentarily hesitant. "Reece," she finally said, and Julian blinked twice. "My brother's name was Reece Robinson."

Julian's mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to find his voice. He was torn between the sudden pain in his heart upon hearing of her tragedy and the surprise at her false identity. "So..." he trailed off, sending her a look of uncertainty. "That would make you..." he swallowed. "You're not...Reece Black?"

She shrugged, setting the potato and the knife down beside herself and turning to face him. "Two people on this ship know my birth name. First mate and the captain."

Julian nodded, disengaging. "I understand. I don't expect you to tell me."

He heard her take in a subtle breath. "Lillian," she said confidently. "My...birth name was Lillian."

His eyes widened, and he stared at her a little humorously. "Lillian? As in...people could call you Lilly?"

She smiled and glanced to the side. "You can see why I was a little weirded out when everyone kept mentioning some girl named 'Lily' all the time."

Julian let loose a grin. "So what the heck do I call you? Lilly? Reece? A weird mixture of the two?" He paused. "Leece? Rilly?"

She began to giggle. "No..."

He smiled at her, loving the way her dimples formed on her speckled cheeks. "I... I like Reece better than Lilly. No offense intended, it's just..." he watched her. "You're Reece Black, the cabin boy on Darkrunner's ship. You'll always be Reece, my partner in crime, and the most fun I've known my entire life."

Her relieved grin stretched across her face, tugging at her numerous freckles. "No offense taken. Lilly doesn't exist anymore, anyways. I'm just Reece."

"Is it bad I'm happy to hear that?" Julian perked a brow at her.

They both leaned against the crates. The two of them had just ended up taking a break from peeling for a while.

"It's never bad to be happy," she hummed.

Julian smiled at this, and Reece folded her arms, falling back into the previous conversation.

"Reece was killed protecting me from some bad people," she hummed, and began to bite her nails.

"But you were just kids when it happened," Julian sobered and nearly whispered. "Where were your parents?"

Reece glanced over at him, the rich chocolate pools of her eyes capturing his. "As I said. Bad people."

He blinked and swallowed hard. "Oh." His voice wavered with just one word. _Holy shit._ Suddenly he felt incredibly stupid, having gone on and on about how great his family was, when she had _this_ weighing on her.

She seemed to pick up on his expression, and she let a smile tug at her lips. "Julian," she cleared her throat. "It was a long time ago. It was...a different life, even. I'm so happy here. These people are my family, more family than I ever had back home. I kept my disguise mostly just to avoid my parents, but I could've shucked it years ago and been fine. I don't know why I keep it. But I...like it. My identity is defined by Reece Black, the cabin boy on Darkrunner's ship," she smiled when she quoted Julian. "That kicked-puppy look on your face is misplaced."

Julian watched her steadily. She wasn't just saying all that to make him feel better. She was legitimately, truly okay. She was better than okay here; she was happy and safe. If anything, he should be glad she found such a welcoming home. But he still couldn't help but feel so incredibly sorrowful at the thought of what Reece, especially little Reece, had endured. It was heartbreaking, and a lump formed in his throat.

Her brows turned up and she laughed sympathetically at the look on his face, turning over and wrapping her arms around his torso in a tight hug.

"Elune's breath," he whispered to himself, letting out a laugh and hugging her back tightly.

"What?" She didn't release him. He didn't want her to.

He sniffed. "You just told me you've gone through this terrible, awful ordeal, and I'm the one who needs consoling. This is so backwards," he chuckled weakly, and her hug tightened.

"Well, I give the best hugs," she replied. "You're in luck."

He smiled, daring to rest his mouth and nose against her hair. A sudden, powerful wave of peaceful tranquility washed over him then, and his eyes fell shut. He'd felt some form of magic, a calming, soothing magic, tingling into his skin. He recognized it as the same magic she'd used on him when he'd fallen from the topsails. She literally, truly gave the _best_ hugs. He only wished he could return what she'd given to him somehow, because this...he had no words.

The hug lasted far longer than either of them had meant it to, and when Julian felt her finally pulling away from him, it seemed as if a part of him was tearing away as well. He swallowed heavily, and attempted to change the subject. The timing seemed well enough.

"So, Levi and the first mate..." he said slowly, peering sideways at Reece to catch her expression.

Her eyes widened as she remembered what they'd encountered last night. "Oh yeah!" she erupted, suddenly bright and full of enthusiasm, her natural state. "What the heck is up with that? Did Levianath ever come back to your room after that, or no..?" She looked hilariously hopeful for the latter.

Julian grinned and shook his head wordlessly, his eyes flashing mischievously. "No-ope," he drew out the word.

Reece burst into full belly laughter, so infectious that Julian joined in as well. They laughed til they had tears in their eyes, though why it was so hilarious, Julian could not place. He recalled seeing Levianath and Fiammetta the night before; it'd been dark, so he and Reece hadn't seen them initially upon sneaking above deck. But then the scuffling of the couple's movement had drawn their eyes, and they'd witnessed the two dark figures all entangled against the side of the boat. A few seconds of staring let them realize who it was, and then Julian, in his surprise, had accidentally tripped right over Reece's feet. Fiammetta's expression had been priceless when she'd whipped around to see them. She had seemed so trapped, and yet for some reason so distracted. And Levianath, well, Levianath had just been...Levianath.

Reece's voice was rough as she laughed. "I didn't even know they _liked_ each other. I thought they only tolerated one another, and barely so."

"Maybe it's uh," Julian tried to speak through laughter. "Maybe it's a bunch of pent up angry frustration. Maybe they were _literally_ trying to eat each other's faces off."

Her laughter doubled. "Well it definitely looked like that's what was happening!"

The door of the storage room suddenly burst open, and the Orcish cook Shuuja appeared, looking peeved.

"What the blazes is all that racket in h-"

She paused, catching sight of the piles of peeled potatoes.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" she practically exploded.

Julian and Reece shied away from her tone, cringing.

"We peeled the...potatoes," Reece said feebly. "Like you wanted."

The Orc's voice was still at a bellow. "You peeled ALL OF THEM!" She stepped aside, pointing out of the door. "OUT! No more help here! You two are _finished! _Thank you and goodbye!"

Reece and Julian stumbled past her.

Her voice, even outside of the room, carried through the whole ship wing. "We'll be eating gods-damned potatoes for the next THREE WEEKS!"

They sped up at the woman's near-roar. Once they'd gained enough distance from the kitchen, Reece bubbled into nervous laughter.

"Wait," Julian caught sarcasm in the kid's voice. "So, we did something wrong?"

"Wha-at?" He jokingly cocked his head. "I thought her reaction was one of appreciation. Would've taken her _forever_ to peel those potatoes if not for us."

"Yeah, maybe even _days,"_ she nodded, giggling.

The redhead snickered.

Reece stretched her arms out. "Well, good news," she hummed. "We just got banned from being grounded. Looks to me our schedule has just opened up. Let's find someone to pester."

Julian grinned. "What a wonderful idea."

* * *

Levianath, 3 days later.

* * *

The dark elf pulled a soft, cotton shirt over his head, attempting to do so quietly in order to not wake the Troll from her slumber. He stumbled a little in attempting to don trousers in the dark, but finally managed it, and tied the strings haphazardly before jamming his boots on. He'd slept in a little late this time; he preferred to sneak out before dawn, but Fiammetta's small round window revealed that the sky was turning a dusty blue. He tied his hair back and tucked his shirt in, and he reached for the door, easing the latch open as quietly as possible and slowly urging it to open. It creaked as always, though, and he heard Fiammetta stir.

"Hey," he caught her voice and paused, turning back toward her and letting the door ease half-closed again.

She'd sat up in her bed, nothing but her bedsheet over her chest acting as a barrier against his eyes. Her hair was slightly disheveled but for some reason it still worked on her, and her expression was inviting. He sent her a knowing smirk. He had spent the past three nights in a row coming back here to her cabin. Same woman, three times in a row? That had to be some sort of record for him, perhaps save for when he'd been faithfully married.

"Morning," he practically purred at her.

"Sneaking out, are we?" she cocked one brow up.

"Well, you were the one who wanted to keep this a secret," he quipped. "I am simply fulfilling your wishes." He rested his hand on the door latch.

Fiammetta gave him a nod. "Right. Well, I guess I just wanted to address one thing..."

Levianath remained quiet, waiting for her to keep speaking.

She straightened her posture slightly. "This, between you and me? No strings."

"You kidding?" Levianath practically snorted. "If not for this, we'd be at each other's throats. In the _bad_ way, I mean," he added playfully. "This is only the smart thing to do, naturally."

Fiammetta bit a smile. "Mm. Of course. Naturally."

Levianath sent her a sportive wink. "See you around, first mate."

He walked through her door, only to be absolutely doused in what smelled to be a mixture of salt water, fish scales, and seaweed. An empty wooden pail clattered to the ground, and Levianath's momentarily-tense shoulders simply fell in defeat as he heard Fiammetta behind him burst into laughter. He glanced back at her.

"Was this you?" he whispered, equally peeved and amused.

She shook her head, laughing so hard she wasn't making a sound, a sight Levianath had never seen on her before. Her nose had crinkled adorably, catching his eye for a moment before he brought himself back to his predicament. He grimaced and shook the disgusting water off of his hands, slicking his soaked hair back. Half of it had fallen out of the tie.

Fiammetta's laughter seemed to echo through two more voices out on deck, two he recognized, and he followed their location. Just then he saw Julian and Reece both topple out from a hiding spot behind empty wooden crates, rolling on the floor in raucous laughter. Of course they were the culprits. It was always them. The time between him opening Fiammetta's door and exiting it had only been about a minute, tops. They had to have been waiting for him to crack it open in order to plant the pail. That took patience and remarkable timing. Half of him was genuinely impressed, and the other half was piqued.

He let his head fall back in entertained annoyance, and he was about to scold the two of them but froze when he realized how many crew members were milling about now. The last two times he'd snuck out, it'd been early and dark enough that he could slip by the workers without being seen. But now, they saw him, and they saw him exiting Fiammetta's cabin. And they saw the prank Julian and Reece had just pulled on him.

And so, they all had begun laughing at his misfortune as well, which also meant they knew of him and Fiammetta.

Levianath let a hand brace against his forehead as he groaned inwardly. The whole ship would know by midday. Without glancing back, he let Fiammetta's door ease shut, and sent the still-laughing pair of teens a scathing smirk.

"Thank you for that," he flicked more water from his arms. "I was feeling parched."

This renewed their laughter as he headed below deck. The cat was out of the bag, now, and all Levianath could do was laugh along with them.

* * *

Although it had taken him far too long, Levianath finally managed to scrub clean the smell of the mucky seawater. He'd donned fresh clothing and allowed his hair to air-dry as he explored the ship.

Upon curiously digging through some bookshelves below deck, he'd discovered something of use to him: a Warlock tome. He assumed it must belong to Wraith, though he was unsure of whether the captain practiced demonic magic or not. Of course as a Blood Elf the man clearly preferred fel magic in general, but maybe not _demons_.

The tome, though, was nothing more than a run-down of medium-to-difficult demonology spells, which Levianath found to be absolutely perfect. He was halfway through the book, and he'd already doubled his number of known incantations. He'd cozied up in what was basically a supply closet. His glowing eyes saw well enough in the near-darkness, and this closet provided more seclusion than he'd be able to find anywhere else on the ship. He'd been around more people who knew his name this past month than he ever had before, and until he'd found this closet, he'd have given an arm and a leg for some genuine solitude.

A point was reached where his eyesight begged for a break, and he leaned his head back against the wall. His gaze flicked to the thin space between the bottom of the closed door and the floor. Light filtered in, and he saw footsteps pass it once or twice, but no one opened it. He smiled. Maybe this would be his retreat, this little closet. It was surprisingly comfortable, and dark, and pleasant.

However, as soon as that thought had taken hold in his mind, a shadow cast by a pair of feet outside the door stopped, stayed, and then the next he knew, the door opened.

Levianath was moderately relieved to see it was Julian, and he relaxed a little. The boy caught sight of him once he stuck his face in the room, his expression lighting up animatedly.

"I found you! Hey there, you antisocial, ladies' man, you," Julian grinned widely, and Levianath acknowledged his presence with a flick of his long brows, burying his nose back in his book in an attempt to not-so-subtly shoo the teenager away. Come to think of it, there was probably no place Levianath could ever hope to hide without being found out by this kid.

Either the redhead didn't catch the Warlock's hint, or he simply ignored it.

"We haven't had a nice friendly chat in way too long," Julian waltzed right over next to where Levianath was sitting in the corner and plopped down beside him. Julian was not one for personal space. The kid was bigger than Levianath was, for crying out loud, and Levianath felt smothered just by him being in the same little closet.

"Whatcha got there?" Julian peered over Levianath's arm at the book, and Levianath squished himself further into his corner.

"Warlock stuff. Demonic-summoning and void magic."

He noticed that Julian had paled at that, and the half-elf resisted a dark smile and leaned in a little closer to the teen.

"I'm sitting here in this closet, plotting the demise of everyone on this ship. Reaching my fingers into the void and dragging out bloodthirsty demons to wreak havoc upon the world is one of my favorite pastimes."

The boy had caught Levianath's sarcasm halfway through, and was back to his normal self by the time Levianath had finished his sentence, and on top of that, entirely changed the subject. "Second only to somehow wooing the least-wooable women everywhere you go," Julian snickered playfully.

"Wooable? Is that a word?" Levianath goaded.

"You're dodging the point," Julian retorted, and he pointed a finger at Levianath. "You. Fiammetta. Explanation. Go."

Levianath set his tome down flat in his lap and finally looked at Julian fully, donning a patronizing expression. "Explanation? Julian, is this you asking for the sex talk?"

Julian just returned with a dull look. "No, this is me asking you what in the heck is going on between you and your lovely new bedfriend. I mean, do you like her? Do you lo-ove her?" The teen made exaggerated kissy sounds through puckered lips.

"Bedfriend? Is this make-up-words day?" Levianath simpered playfully. "Why was I not informed? I'm great at words."

"Lev!" Julian barked, still good-naturedly, but clearly about ready to strangle the Warlock. Levianath only responded with a grin. Julian cleared his throat, gaining a mischievous edge.

"Well, at least tell me... Did you get to four?"

Levianath blinked, thrown-off.

"Four what?"

"Four-play?" Julian grinned.

Levianath's lips parted as he stared at the boy, unsure if he was joking or legitimately was _that_ clueless. It took all his resolve not to erupt in laughter, but finally he broke and began to chuckle heartily.

"Foreplay, you mean?" he laughed. "Julian, you can't be serious. Are you?"

"Well, I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if you'd reached three-play, but four-play is where things get really good."

"Please tell me you're joking!" the half-elf's laughter reignited full-force.

Julian simply kept grinning impishly. Levianath _still_ couldn't read his expression, and he rubbed one hand down his own scruffy chin as his laughter finally began to die down enough to breathe properly. Julian _had_ to be joking, and for Levianath, his only solace lay in that fact.

"You're either joking," Levianath hummed teasingly, "or you _desperately_ need devirginized. I'm sure _someone_ on this ship would be willing to remedy that if the case is in fact the latter."

Julian laughed out loud and shook his head once. "Mm, devirginization. I'll pass."

Levianath stared at the boy, cocking his head to the side in curiosity. "Hold on. I was kidding. Does that mean you're...?"

Julian sniffed obliviously, peering at Levianath with a bright smile. "Hmm?"

Maybe this kid was far more innocent than Levianath had initially given him credit for, and Levianath made a mental note to maybe censor some of the stuff he talked about from now on. He opened and closed his mouth once, then found his voice. "You know what? Forget I said anything. What were we talking about?"

"You and Fiammetta. What's going on between you?" Julian asked effortlessly, retaining his playful smirk.

The man smirked back. "Fine. Fiammetta and me. Think of it as a mutual tactical decision in which we, the involved parties, have agreed that the most effective means of mitigation regarding a clash of authority is to...well, to sleep together."

Julian stared at him. "And that restated concisely and in smaller words would be?

"We kept arguing, so we fixed it. In her bed. Thrice."

Julian slapped a hand to his forehead. "Levianath! If that's not one of the stupidest reasons to-"

"Reasons?" Levianath released a laugh. "Tell me, Julian, where _is_ the line drawn between valid and invalid reasons when it comes to something like this? I would genuinely love to know."

Julian tightened his brows. "Reece told me she overheard you yelling at your dad last week. She basically said you bitched at him for allowing you to even exist, like you were mad at him for whatever happened between him and your mom. You called him careless because his choice to be with your mom resulted in you happening."

Levianath squinted his eyes. "Your point being?"

"My point being that you're doing the _exact_ same crap you're angry at him for!" Julian laughed a little. "You're being such a hypocrite, man! First you and that girl at the bar, and then you and Fiammetta. For all we know you may have already sown those seeds! And from the way you've been acting, I'm going to guess this whole promiscuity thing you've got going isn't something new. You could have a kid as of now and not know it, too."

"Things did not carry through with Sage," Levianath retorted, "and Fiammetta has supplied prophylactics. I _am_ being careful, and I always have been. Hell, I was married a year and a half and never produced a kid, if that says anything. And why are you defending the captain? You know what he's done."

"You were married?" Julian lifted a brow, and then blinked a few times before speaking up again. "Er, whatever. Anyways, I'm just trying to help you to see his side. I want you to see what you're doing, how hypocritical your actions are in light of what you were angry about. Maybe you will make sense of whatever it is you've got pent up in that mind of yours."

Julian sighed, and kept speaking. "He's a person too, Levianath, and you should view him as one. We all make mistakes, and although you think you are Darkrunner's mistake, in my own -probably useless- opinion, you are not and have never been a mistake. You are my best friend, and _that_ is no mistake."

Levianath remained quiet, so Julian _again_ spoke.

"I hate to think that you're unhappy for any reason, especially regarding your own blood family. I know you've been avoiding your dad the past few days, and I know that you have justified reasons to be angry with him other than 'being born'. But perhaps it's time to speak with him, civilly, and maybe reach some common ground."

Levianath stared at the teenager. He was receiving a lecture from a teenage boy six years his junior, a boy who probably had little-to-no experience in what he was talking about. And yet, Levianath could not ignore what the boy was saying. Julian's words held merit, and he had to admit that eighteen-year-old Julian was far wiser than eighteen-year-old Levianath could have hoped to be at that age.

He let his shoulders relax once he realized they'd been held tense, and he released a single laugh. "Julian, where the hell did all that come from?"

"I babble when I'm serious about something," the boy shrugged. "Get used to it."

The dark half-elf sighed, and looked at the book in his lap. "So, maybe you're right."

"You'll talk to the captain, then?"

"I will. Eventually."

Julian let a smile spread across his face, and he patted Levianath on the knee before standing up. "Fantastic. Now, I'm off to find Reece. You have fun with your... Warlock stuff."

Levianath nodded, and then squinted his eyes. "Say, shouldn't you be working in the kitchen, though? I just remembered you're not where you're supposed to be."

"Oh! Uh, well, you see," Julian said, inching toward the door, then opening it and sliding out with nothing more than a few unintelligible mumbles. The door closed, leaving Levianath back in his comfortable darkness.

Shaking his head in amusement, he leaned forward and made to set the tome onto a crate by his knee, but paused when a folded parchment fell out of the pages. Curiously, he unfolded it and read its title.

_Warlock's Guide to Demonology-Specialization, Vol. IV: Felguard Appropriation &amp; Assimilation of Powers_

Levianath's brows shot up. Felguard? Now _this_ might be of use to him. He'd love to learn how to summon a new demon, and not only that, but as he began to skim through the words, he saw something that stood out even more. _Assimilation of __Powers_. This was what Pip'tai had been urging him to do, to draw the strength from Vol'xac, his voidwalker. The only reason Levianath had been wary was because he was unsure of whether he understood the spell well enough to carry it through or not.

But now the spell was right here, ready to be learned. And not only that, but if he could learn to summon a felguard, he could gain even _more_ power than what he'd gain from a voidwalker.

He cozied into his spot in the closet, becoming comfortable, enthusiastic to learn. Little did he know that by learning these spells, his life would never be the same.


	15. Home Sweet Home

**Just wanted to shout out to you readers for being awesome and sticking with me. I adore you all, so please accept these virtual hugs.**

**Review Responses**

**Mythique: Aww, I love to write 'em, too. I want to cuddle them both!**

**LadyRaftina: Oooooooh, those two troublemakers get _really_ chummy by the end of this chapter, lemme tell you!**

**Zarabethe: Troll/human/both elves would be amazing; my sister and I had a good laugh when we realized the insane race-mixing we've got going there. Is it too spoiler-y to say that's not off the table? :D And YES, BAD, NO BOOK, LEV! **

**Suneeku: Well hey there, welcome back, and thanks for the entertaining reviews! Been a while! Happy new year to you, too, and as for Julian and Reece, *MWAHAHA*!**

* * *

**This is another double chapter, nearly as long as the previous one. Have at it.**

* * *

Sometime after reading through his spell tome, Levianath had dozed off. He probably would have ended up sleeping all day in that closet, if not for a sudden explosive boom racking the ship and lurching him awake.

Momentarily he dismissed it as Julian and Reece messing with the cannons again, but then it went off again, nearly throwing him out of his seat. He jumped up, wiping the sleep from his eyes and bursting out of the supply closet, nearly blinded by the dusty sunlight that invaded his eyes. He darted past the cannons in the next room, noting that they were manned by crewmembers, not teenage misfits, and this observation brought his alarm to the next level. Apparently, they were legitimately shooting at something. Or someone.

He bounded up the stairs three at a time and swept out above deck, searching for the cannons' target, expecting it to be another ship, perhaps, but no. His eyes fell upon a vastly confusing sight: a zeppelin floated in the water, with the massive balloon quickly deflating through multiple rips in the material. It was fifty yards away at best, close enough that Levianath could hear its Goblin passengers shouting frantically.

The cannons went off again, shaking the floor, and Levianath watched in awe as the upper cabin of the zeppelin's ship splintered to a thousand pieces into the water. A glint of sunlight against steel caught his eye nearby, and he glanced over, discovering that it was the captain who was ordering the cannons to fire. Wraith fluidly descended the stairs from the ship's helm, shouted something up at a few sailors in the crow's nest high above, and then caught sight of Levianath. He snapped a finger and took swift steps to Levianath's side, though he did provide generous space between them.

"What is happening?" Levianath called out, half of his final word drowned out by more cannonfire and more splintering.

"Piracy at its finest, my boy!" Wraith grinned devilishly and held his hands out toward the downed zeppelin, and Levianath just gawked.

"Why the hell are you shooting down a zeppelin?" He had to shout to be heard, and he ducked as a stray rope from the rafters swung down between them.

Wraith clearly meant to respond, but his attention was stolen away by one of his crewmembers. Levianath stared at the zeppelin, at its crew. He knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of this ship's cannons, and suddenly felt a wave of empathy for those under attack.

More cannonfire. They were aiming the cannons higher than the body of the ship, and Levianath realized after a moment that they were taking out the zeppelin's guns, structure, and defenses, not its bulk. Their goal was not to sink it, only to cripple it.

The captain had returned to the helm and began to steer the ship toward the downed zeppelin, drawing close enough to board it. Grappling ropes shot out from six different locations on the side of the ship, and before he knew it, the two ships were side-by-side, tethered together as Darkrunner's people raided the other crew.

Levianath stared on, intrigued, experiencing this for the first time. The people on the opposing vessel were Goblins, and as much as Levianath wanted to like Goblins, after what he'd endured at the camps, he just couldn't. A part of him wondered if these people were at all connected to Saltsprocket. And a part of him hoped they were, really. It'd give him great joy to see them all slaughtered if that were the case.

Darkrunner's crew swept through their opponents like ghosts, far more skilled and powerful, and it was only a matter of minutes before everyone on the other side had either dropped their arms or died.

A mess of confusion, it was loud and hectic, but as Levianath caught a glimpse of Wraith, he saw how the man thrived on it. The crew on deck parted way, and Levianath saw a flash of royal blue. Fiammetta was approaching, dragging a green-skinned goblin along with her, her blade at his throat. She pulled him all the way up to face the captain, and threw him onto the deck at the captain's feet.

Levianath startled at Julian's voice so close to him, out of the blue. "What's going on?" The boy had just come upstairs, apparently.

Before Levianath could reply, Reece, who was on Julian's other side, spoke first. "Fiammetta caught the ship's captain."

"Is that a _zeppelin?"_ Julian almost squeaked once he found sight of what they were attacking.

"Saltsprocket are notorious for them," the cabin boy nodded. "Even miles from shore. They give a wide berth to avoid detection by enemy factions in Stranglethorn and all the way up the western coasts. Unluckily for them, though, we're here. And we," she added playfully, "have shiny new cannons with far better aim and versatility than our old ones."

Another crewmember appeared beside Darkrunner and deposited a salvaged, branded wooden crate down beside the Goblin.

Levianath folded his arms as he watched the confrontation. Wraith removed his twin swords from their sheaths and held them down at his sides, cocking his head at the Goblin, who'd remained on his knees where he'd fallen but was glaring back up.

Darkrunner hovered the end of one steel blade over the label on the crate.

"This is Saltsprocket brand," the Blood Elf said calmly. "And by the looks of you and your nearly-destroyed crew, you are as well."

The Goblin's voice was more resonant than Levianath had expected it to be. "Top-notch observational skills, numbskull."

Wraith did nothing but let a smile spread across his face, and he chuckled, sheathing one sword.

"Slavers, all of you," Wraith muttered, bringing himself dangerously close to the green-skinned man at his feet. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't liberate your head from your shoulders right now."

Levianath caught Julian's worried voice beside him. "He's going to kill him?" The boy sounded beyond mortified.

"Well, that's the idea," Reece replied plainly. "They're Saltsprocket. Captain Darkrunner has a personal vendetta against these guys. Long story."

The Goblin's rich voice was peeved. "I know who you are, and I know what you do to people like me. I got no chance no matter what I do. So just kill me."

"He can't kill him!" Julian's voice had risen an octave, and Levianath sent him a confused glance out of the corner of his eye. "You're not supposed to _kill_ people!" Julian looked about to break into a sweat just standing there, fidgeting and wide-eyed.

Levianath suddenly realized what was going on with Julian. Julian had never seen death, never firsthand. The members of the enemy crew had to have been killed below deck or something, because no dead bodies could be seen. Despite everything that had happened with Julian, he still hadn't actually witnessed another person dying.

A lump formed in Levianath's throat, a lump of worry. He straightened up and stared at the captain, who was still speaking with the Goblin, discussing pointless terms before he'd inevitably publicly execute him.

Darkrunner couldn't do this. Julian couldn't see this, not if it'd break him as Levianath feared it would.

A foreign-feeling wave of protectiveness washed through the half-elf, and his brows tightened.

"Reece, take him below deck."

"But I want to see what-"

"Now," he nearly growled. Reece shot him a confused look but did as he'd told, grabbing Julian's petrified arm and tugging him to follow her. The stairs were on the other side of the deck, and Levianath could only pray Julian would be out of eyeshot and earshot before the captain finished the deed.

It didn't look like that was to be the case. Levianath's eyes fell on the captain just as the man had raised his sword. A rush of panic hit him, and he lurched forward.

"Wait!" he barked sharply, and Darkrunner all but froze. Levianath swept to a stop beside the captain, bracing a hand on the man's raised sword. All pairs of eyes regarded him like he was insane, but he held direct eye contact with Wraith. The man looked confused, but mostly just curious.

"There are eyes on this ship unfit to witness what you are about to do," Levianath hissed, and Wraith stared at him, then immediately understood, gaze flicking behind Levianath to where Julian had frozen.

Wraith, unexpectedly, withdrew and put the hilt of his sword in his son's hand. Levianath's brows darkened.

"You don't seriously expect _me_ to-" he started heatedly, but Wraith cut him off, drawing in slightly closer.

"This man works for those who abducted you and employed you against your will. You, more than any of us, should be given charge of his outcome. If you wish to spare him, do so now. Otherwise, do as you please."

Levianath saw the Goblin before them roll his eyes.

He glanced back at Julian behind him, desperately wishing Reece had taken him downstairs. Honestly, if not for Julian's witness, Levianath would slit this Goblin's throat without a second thought. A deeper part of his mind told him that six months ago, he wouldn't have cared; he'd have killed in front of the boy and thought he was doing him a favor by exposing him to the harshness of the real world.

But now something in him urged him to preserve that purity, as rare as it was. Julian would never look at him the same if he did this, and Levianath realized in that moment that he cared more what Julian thought than anyone, even himself. Curse the boy for being his conscience.

Wraith took a step back, and now everyone stared at Levianath, waiting to see what he'd do. Hesitating, Levianath unintentionally made eye contact with Fiammetta. He'd expected her of all people to be disapproving, but he caught a look in her eye as one of inexplicable esteem. This gave him some renewed confidence.

He turned his gaze down to the captive enemy captain kneeling in front of him and gripped the sword in one hand.

"What is your name?" Levianath requested, his own voice holding a power he hadn't expected.

The Goblin looked up at him from under his brows, his eyes bright blue, as blue as the sea that held them all. "Fizzpocket. Captain Rizzik Fizzpocket." The Goblin's eyes kept jumping between Levianath and the captain, clearly confused by their similarities.

"Do you know why you're still alive, Rizzik?"

The Goblin squinted his eyes but said nothing.

Levianath stared at him. "Because my good friend here would grant you mercy, and I am inclined to oblige him."

Rizzik eyed Levianath uncertainly, clearly disbelieving. Levianath sent a look at Julian, and then back at the Goblin. "How good are your rowing skills?"

"My what?"

"Rowing. Using paddles in a boat to maneuver yourself through the water," Levianath spoke in a belittling tone.

Rizzik appeared completely lost. "Adequate, I'd say?"

Levianath looked at Fiammetta. "Do we have extra rowboats? Or perhaps any on the other ship?"

"We have many," she nodded.

"How close are we to the city harbor?"

"Stormwind? Mere miles. If not for that mist, we'd see it already," she pointed off toward the northeast, where a mist clung to the surface of the water, signifying land. Although the sky above them was clear, off toward the north lay ominous thunderclouds.

Levianath smiled at her, and then regarded the Goblin.

"Do you have Saltsprocket contacts in Stormwind?"

"Why would I tell you that?"

"So you do? Great." Levianath gestured toward a few of the sailors, who appeared to be watching him and awaiting an order. "Prepare for our friend a lifeboat. Include a compass and one day's ration of food and water to fall back on."

One sailor hoisted Rizzik up by his rope-bound arms and dragged him over to the side of the boat, and a handful of others diligently set to doing as Levianath had asked.

Captain Darkrunner approached Levianath then, regarding him curiously. "You know once he reaches Stormwind, he'll seek the Saltsprocket contacts there and return right back to his old job?"

"Counting on it," Levianath murmured. "We'll arrive at the harbor before he will. Assign some of your crew to await his arrival and track him. He may lead you straight to his friends, and you can take them all for questioning."

Wraith gained a look of approval. "I'm impressed. Handled like a leader."

"I am no leader," Levianath replied quickly, and he pushed past Wraith. "Excuse me."

He made his way over to where Julian and Reece were standing off to the side.

"Julian, I-" he began, but before he could say a thing further, he'd been tackled in probably what was the tightest hug he'd ever received. Not from Julian, but from Reece. He couldn't even move his arms to reciprocate, nor could he breathe for that matter.

As soon as Reece released him from the hug, Levianath sucked in a deep breath of sweet air, and then coughed heavily. This kid was far stronger than Levianath would've ever guessed her to be.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed. "I didn't get why you did that at first, but now I..." she trailed off and glanced at Julian, who was back to his oblivious, cheerful self. "Thanks."

Julian was watching Levianath with a grin. "Man, that was epic! I wish you could've seen what you looked like! You were cooler than the captain when you took charge."

Previously unnoticed, the captain, who was standing off to the side, snorted. "Is that so?"

Julian coughed awkwardly, not having realized the man was there. "Well-," he began to blabber. "I mean, you know, for someone who has no idea what he's doing..." he trailed off when Levianath sent him a half-joking glare. Julian swallowed hard and looked at Reece. "We need to go...to the cook. Levianath, you were awesome. Okay-bye-now."

The two of them exited swiftly, with Julian tugging the cabin boy behind him.

Levianath smirked to himself, and he heard the captain's mirthful laughter as the man meandered across the deck to a few of his other workers. As the crew lowered a lifeboat containing the Goblin captain into the water and the rest of them began to loot the zeppelin, Levianath felt a tap on his arm. He turned and saw Fiammetta there beside him. She motioned for him to follow her into her room, not caring that they had multiple pairs of eyes following them up to the point of where she closed her door behind her.

Levianath stood there in front of her bed, a bit lost. "If we're doing what I think we're doing, don't you think the timing is a bit...off?"

She let out a chuckle. "That's not why I stole you away. I need a word with you."

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?" Levianath teased, but he made himself comfortable in a wide, loveseat-like bench by her window, the only seat in her room other than her bed.

Fiammetta just sent him a look and then spoke. "Are you still planning on leaving once we reach Stormwind?" From a kettle she poured into two ceramic cups what looked like some sort of tea. She sat down in the chair beside him and handed one cup to him. His nose confirmed then that it was indeed green tea.

He took in a slow breath, and let it out even slower. "Well, first thing's first, I ought to head to the banks to retrieve some of my money. And then, yes, I think I am. I've enough gold to buy a home somewhere, maybe set up roots, even settle down. I have options. No more wandering." That thought made him happier than it should have.

"A home? How could someone like you stand such a domestic life?" she tilted her head. "I can't picture you staying in one place longer than a week at a time."

"Given that I feel safe, I am happiest with stability," he leaned back in the chair. "I once had a house I called my own, one I'd built myself. I've never since felt truly _home_ anywhere, and I miss the feeling, regardless of how short-lived it really was."

Her eyes had softened as he spoke, and she finally responded with a quiet tone. "I must say, Levianath, in your time on this ship I have misjudged you."

He watched her. "That's a good thing, I hope?"

She half-smiled. "Quite. The things I said to you when we first met, about how you're rash and untrustworthy and selfish..." her eyes flashed with humor, "I stick by my words, of course, but I'm beginning to see another side to you I had not seen before. Out there, I saw how you acted for Julian when no one else would have thought to. You _do_ care."

Levianath simply sipped his tea, then set it down on the floor beside him and threaded his fingers together. He wet his lips as he gathered his thoughts. "You know, you claim you misjudged me," he murmured. "I do not think you did. Everything you're learning about me, I'm learning about myself as well. I didn't think it within my ability to...care," his brows tightened. "And not only to care, but to care about so much."

The exotic half-troll tilted her head. "What is it you care for most?"

"Most of all?" he thought a few quiet beats, and shrugged. "I honestly can't say. What I know, though, is that Julian called me his best friend this morning. His words held more weight than I think he believed they did. And he's just a _kid_. We're in two entirely different places in our lives, but I have no idea where I would be without him. And that's the worst part, really. He and his missing friend Lily would still be living in their orchard if we hadn't crossed paths. I've brought him nothing but stress and hardship, and he treats me like I'm some sort of hero."

Fiammetta had been quietly listening to Levianath speak, which he appreciated. With this woman, he couldn't seem to keep his own mouth shut. Normally Levianath hated speaking more than bare minimum, but she was like his own personal truth serum, and could make him spill just about any thought swirling around in his head. Perhaps it was because she held onto everything he said. Good listeners are hard to find.

"What you did for Julian," she finally spoke in her Trollish voice. "You fought for innocence, to protect the sanctity of a young man's mind. In that moment, when you spared the Goblin despite how clearly I could tell you wanted to end him, you acted for another. You went against what I expected of you. And I believe that is special."

He watched her as she leaned toward him and brushed his thick dark hair from his face, tucking it behind an ear, her hand brushing along his jaw as she pulled it back. The action was far more intimate than it should have normally been, and he locked his gaze on hers.

She gained a playful look, toying with his shirt collar. "You may be a big, bad, sexy Warlock with fel fire and demons at your disposal, and you might put up this cold, sarcastic front that can fool most, but I think you're actually quite a softy."

Levianath teasingly cringed. "Ahh, 'softy'? Really? I should have just killed the Goblin."

"Oh, it's not a bad thing," she said, smiling, and began to draw toward him on the seat. "On the contrary, it's very," she slid herself onto his lap, craning her face down until their noses brushed together, and he felt her breath on his lips, "very good."

Levianath let his eyes fall shut as she kissed him. This kiss was not urgent or forceful, not full of frustration or whatever it was the two of them had been getting out of their systems these past few days. This kiss was...different. It was gentle and sweet, and it elicited more of an emotional response than Levianath had intended on giving.

Inhaling, he let his hands draw her in closer, kissing her back tenderly. He felt a gentle tugging in his heart, a warmth spreading through him, filling him. He'd kissed her many times, but 'til now, their intimacy had held one single purpose.

So what did this kiss mean?

He suddenly realized he didn't understand a single thing he was feeling, didn't recognize himself, and he abruptly pulled away, opening his eyes. He swallowed heavily, gaze darting between hers.

She gained a look of concern and sat back on his legs. "What is it?"

"I-" his throat had dried. "I don't know. I should go," he shifted out from under her and weaseled his way off the seat, accidentally bumping his foot hard against a table leg and stumbling a few times while he made for the door. "We'll be in Stormwind soon; I should get ready to...leave."

Her expression was nothing less than completely lost as he closed the door, his hand resting on the handle for a good five seconds as he stared at the wooden frame in shock. He felt simultaneously incredibly stupid and vastly confused. Stupid because he'd just made a fool of himself by freaking out, and confused because he didn't understand _why_ he'd freaked out in the first place. He rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"By the void, what am I doing? This woman will be my death," he groaned, leaning his forehead and forearm against the door.

"She'd best not be," a man said behind him, and he turned to see that it was the captain. Wraith gave Levianath a knowing look. "Fiammetta Evenstar does not lend her attentions to just anyone, you know. She must see something in you worthy of her time."

Levianath glanced back at her closed door once for good measure, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Wasn't this guy her godfather?

Darkrunner read Levianath's expression perfectly and let out a simple laugh. "She's a big girl; she can handle herself. I don't impede on her personal affairs, and she mine."

"You're her godfather, right?"

"Technically, yes. I was so busy when she was young, though, that I barely knew her until she came to work on my ship. I've been more of a mentor for her than anything else, and now we are essentially peers."

"A mentor?" he echoed.

The captain merely smirked, nodded, and motioned for Levianath to walk with him up to the helm. Levianath obliged, doing his best to be polite, mostly for Julian's sake more than anything. He'd promised the kid he'd treat his dad like a person.

Thunder traveled over the water from the northeast, a dark rumble, as the sky continued to dim. Levianath wondered if the storm was over the water, or land-based. If it was the former, Rizzik the Goblin may never make it to shore.

Darkrunner took his place at the helm, holding onto one of the wheel handles loosely, and stared ahead into the impending mist.

"We are lucky this storm will not reach us 'til long after docking." The captain had practically just answered Levianath's thoughts.

"How can you tell?" the half-elf folded his hands behind his back.

"You spend as much time as I have on a ship, you tend to know such things."

Levianath shrugged in agreement. "Right. That's good news for the zeppelin captain, then."

"Aye," the captain laughed mirthfully. "Although, truly, it would be no great setback if he were to be lost at sea."

A few moments ticked by.

"Either way, I won't be involved in this business much longer," Levianath sighed, leaning against the rails by the helm that overlooked the deck.

"You're still leaving once we arrive?"

Levianath nodded quietly.

"Shame," the captain seemed genuinely downcast. Levianath did not understand why in the world this man still wanted to keep him around. He'd been nothing but horrible to the guy, and yet patience and welcoming were still provided in excess. It almost made Levianath want to apologize, especially after what Julian had told him this morning. Levianath had to admit, Julian's words had shaken him. In feeling angry at his father for being careless, he _was_ being hypocritical. What if he _had_ spent the night with Sage, and what if history ended up repeating itself? It was certainly possible, and that thought was terrifying.

He couldn't hate Darkrunner for that. He couldn't hate the man for giving him truth salts, either, because he knew that in the same position, he'd have done worse. Holding onto this anger was poisoning himself, and only himself. So why did he despise the guy, still? What was it that made him dislike him so?

Because they were related through blood. Levianath had to admit, that was a pretty damn stupid reason to hate someone.

Levianath gathered up his courage, swallowing his ego, and stared at the man who was his father.

"I'd...like to...apologize," he said in broken fragments, and the captain turned his gaze onto Levianath's directly, his ever-curious stare intensifying.

"Whatever for?"

Levianath released a single laugh. "What for?" He scratched his own chin once. "For being a dick."

"I...do not recall what you are referencing," Wraith appeared genuinely lost.

Levianath stared at him. "How about the terrible attitude I've directed at you since the moment we met? Or maybe when I blew up on you in your cabin and basically strangled you? When I threw your hospitality back in your face?"

"Those actions," the captain laughed, "were not, as you eloquently put, 'being a dick.' They were the actions of someone who has had to use them to survive. You did not do those things with the sole intent to harm me. They were defensive, or possibly even reflexive. Instinctive. The only thing that upset me about your hostility was the realization that you've been tempered to act that way."

Silently, Levianath let his gaze fall to the deck below. When this guy wanted to talk, he talked a lot, though he did have a point.

Darkrunner spoke again, "One hundred years ago, I was a slave. Even when freed, I was like you, in the respect that I did not trust others. I _could_ not. Miss Evenstar's parents, my liberators, had to re-teach me how to...to be a _person._ To trust, to care, to realize that the world isn't against me. I had to learn how to let go of my anger. I would have never pictured myself to be where I am now, with so many relying on me, and me caring so much about each one of them." The man's eyes were fond as they carried over his hardworking crew.

"You were a slave?" Levianath asked quietly.

"I was. So one can imagine that upon learning not only who you were but where you came from before being on my ship, I was mortified that you'd gone through what I had, to an extent. The Saltsprocket may not be nearly as barbaric in their treatment and do at least feed and clothe their workers, but I feel that makes them no less heinous. In no situation is it ever acceptable for one man to have that kind of power over another."

Levianath nodded slowly, thoughtfully, not speaking.

His father watched him for a good ten seconds before clearing his throat. "Please do not take offense to what I am about to say; I'd like to state my opinion of your situation, along with some words of self-proclaimed wisdom, based upon a subjective observation of you and your actions in comparison to my own experiences."

The half-elf merely returned with a hesitant shrug, so the captain spoke his mind.

"Upon being extracted from the Saltsprocket, you reached a turning point. Until then, as far as I can gather, you'd had a pretty shabby go of things. Clearly you were raised poorly, neglected, and you learned at a young age to forsake your trust in others simply to stay alive. One bad thing after another led you to justifiably hate and distrust people nearly to a fault."

The captain paused, and Levianath assumed he was done speaking, but then he tilted his head to the side and spoke again.

"I believe you are being given a choice, and that choice will take you in a direction you cannot return from. Either one, despite how strongly I wish for you to stay with us here on this ship, will lead you to a better life. You can choose to stay here on this ship and experience the life we have to offer you; you will be given a home, a family, a new chance. Or, you can choose to leave and start a life of your own, on your own."

After a pause, the captain gave a thoughtful sigh. "You have chosen the latter, and regardless of my wishes, I am enormously happy for you."

Levianath stared at his father. The man _seemed_ to be truly genuine, and it was disconcerting. Either the captain didn't notice his son watching him, or he didn't care. Wraith seemed fully at peace as he steered the ship, almost blissful, like this was the one place in the world he loved most. He looked happier than any other person Levianath had ever seen. Not in the sense that he was simply happy, but that he was truly content in life. Levianath found himself envious.

The captain finally turned his gaze toward Levianath, a level of understanding in his eyes that made the young man squirm. He hated being so easily read.

"As depressing as my next statement might sound to some," Wraith began, "in your case, you may find it uplifting: you have already hit rock bottom, and things can only improve from here."

Levianath let out a sarcastic half-laugh, half-sigh. "That's marginally comforting."

"Good," Wraith smiled serenely and went back to steering. "Now, judging by the look on your face, you'd like to escape this conversation, so I will gracefully back out and set you free."

"Right," Levianath nodded curtly. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

As the ship headed into the stormclouds, Levianath headed off to gather up what little he had before arriving at his home city.

* * *

Julian

* * *

Thunder carried through the clouds overhead, promising a cool September rain from the north, and as Julian stepped foot onto the docks of Stormwind, he felt a sudden surge of joyous relief. He was home. After all of that, after everything over months of trial and difficulty, he was _home_.

The only thing taking away from his happiness right now was that gnawing worry for Lily and her wellbeing. It felt hollow to be relishing in his freedom when Lily was probably off doing gods-know what in her own personal hell. Lily was _not_ a worker, and he couldn't picture her lasting more than two days in a camp like the one he'd been in.

Despite this, though, the redhead took a deep, fresh breath and had half a mind to kiss the ground beneath his feet. Crisp footsteps came to a stop beside him, revealing Levianath, who smiled and inhaled deeply as well, his thumbs tucked in his belt.

"Home sweet home," Levianath said calmly, peering at Julian with a knowing smirk in his eyes.

Julian let a grin cover his face, relaxing for the first time in a very long time. Ships and explosions were all fun and great, but home was _home_. He glanced at Levianath.

"You got time for a detour through the orchard before disappearing?" He did his best to hide the twinge of pain he felt at the thought of Levianath leaving, after everything.

Levianath hesitated a second, looking almost wistful as he stared off toward the southern part of the city that stretched up out of the sea, but he then shrugged. "Sure, what's an hour going to hurt me?"

"Great!" Julian threw an arm over the half-elf's shoulder, and then turned his head to catch sight of Reece. "You coming, Reece?" he called out.

Her mess of scruffy brown hair appeared after mere seconds as she practically skipped over to him. "Ready. Let's meet this sister of yours. I feel like I already know her."

His grin widened and he ruffled her hair playfully, then unlooped his arm from Levianath's shoulder and beckoned them to follow. They'd made it nearly to the giant stone steps leading into the city when swift footsteps approached them from behind, and Julian turned and saw the first mate. She sent Julian a nod.

"Captain has asked me to re-stock some of the fresh fruits, and I hear your orchard is the place to go. Mind if I tag along?"

"More the merrier!" Julian grinned at her, catching the look of approval on Levianath's face as the man gazed at the Troll woman with unwavering eyes. Oh, this guy had it bad for her, Julian could see that much.

They reached the edge of the orchard in record time, and even Julian was almost unnaturally quiet as he did nothing but silently enjoy his return to his home. He hadn't realized how much he missed these trees, the smell of the stone city, the contrast of the massive forest against the bustling civilization beside it. He could see his tribe members all working various harvesting jobs and tending to the orchard and gardens, just another blissful, cool, late-summer day. The rain had not yet begun to fall, for which he was thankful; he'd seen enough water for the time being.

Reece, beside him, was awestruck at the forest. "I've been in Stormwind," she murmured, her chocolate eyes scanning the thick, towering branches above them as they ventured along the winding path, "but I've never seen the orchard up close. This is incredible."

"Wait 'til you see my house, then," Julian grinned.

"This is quite beautiful," Fiammetta commented, her voice too enchanted by the thriving woods. "Like the elven forests of Kalimdor, tamed."

Levianath remained quiet, but Julian could tell by the look on the man's face that he was just happy to be on dry land in general. They rounded the final bend to the main, giant tree of Julian's home, and he felt a surge of pure joy upon resting his eyes on the sight. He didn't think of himself as an overly-emotional type of person, but in a situation like this, he couldn't help but feel a little sappy.

Julian glanced at Fiammetta. "Inside that tree there is where you want to go. Ask anyone you see about what's in stock; they'll take good care of you."

Fiammetta nodded at him and headed into the tree. Julian simply stared at the forest for a good ten seconds, a part of his magic finally waking up after lying dormant for so long. Being away from this forest had dulled his connection to nature, and he felt it rejuvenating tenfold by the second. He was energized, awake, and nearly blissful in being home. Now, the only thing to make this better was to find his family.

He led Reece and Levianath into the wide base floor of the tree, and he nearly laughed aloud at what he saw walking in. Fiammetta, rather than discussing trade, had a snowy-haired baby in her arms, and was talking animatedly to him. The child was giggling loudly, clearly entertained and enthralled by the woman's small tusks. Julian nearly didn't recognize his now ten-month-old nephews before Nyela appeared from behind Fiammetta, carrying the other twin. Julian couldn't hope to differentiate between the two boys now; he had no idea which one was Lucian Jr. and which was Celwin.

Nyela, though, was a sight for sore eyes, bright as ever, and Julian brightened too. Her vivid pink hair fell over her shoulders in waves, carefree and reminiscent of his childhood days. She still hadn't seen him yet, but she was speaking with the half-Troll like they'd known one another for ages.

Levianath, beside Julian, cleared his throat. "Wow," he stated, tilting his head to the side as he stared at Nyela. "MILF alert."

Julian paused a moment and then made a face of pure disgust. "Ugh!" he wrinkled his nose. "Lev, that's my _sister_! Gross!"

Reece, quiet until now, erupted into laughter, and Levianath as well, the two of them finding so much humor in poor Julian's mortification. At the sound of the laughter, Nyela glanced their way, and her bright golden eyes widened, brows arching up high. She let out an undignified squeak of surprise, unable to form words as she, still holding one of the twins, practically jogged over to him. A moment of hesitation passed as she tried to decide what to do with the child in her arms, before she handed him off to Levianath without question and then threw her arms around her little brother.

"You're alive!" she exclaimed. "You're alive, and you're here, and you-" she pulled back, staring at him for a second. "Julian, you have facial stubble! Oh my goodness!" She hugged him again.

"I do?" he lifted one brow, hugging her back tightly and reaching one hand up to rub his chin. This hug reminded him that his sister was ridiculously small, shorter even than Reece, and Reece was a human. Julian had almost forgotten that. It's amazing what slips one's mind after months.

She pulled back. "I'm so glad you're alright. What about Lily? Is she here?" Nyela's eyes scanned Julian's inner party and then fell back on him again.

Julian realized that his sister had probably not gotten any word of his wellbeing since the day his mom and dad left to find him; his parents must not have returned to the orchard at all before heading off to work with Raphael's Shrouded Serpent guild to find Lily. He cleared his throat.

"She was taken by the Goblins to a different camp than Levianath and me. Mom, Dad, and Sarion are going to find her. They're with some elf guy, Raphael, and his guild."

"Raphael?" Nyela's expression lit up brightly. "You know Raphael? How is he?"

"Well, I didn't really talk to him very much but he seemed fine."

She seemed genuinely happy at hearing this, her face stretching into a broad smile. "I was wondering what he's been up to these days."

"Saving your brother and your best friend, apparently."

Nyela nodded, still smiling, and for good measure hugged him again. Julian laughed sympathetically and hugged her back, then straightened up, realizing he had friends he hadn't introduced her to.

"Nyela, this is Reece Black, the best cabin boy of any ship in Azeroth," he introduced the two of them, and Reece shook Nyela's hand happily, announcing that she'd heard a lot of good things about her. Julian turned to Levianath, who was hilariously doing surprisingly well with the tot in his arms. The guy was obviously not all that comfortable with children, but the baby was giggling mirthfully and trying to gnaw on the ends of handfuls of the man's silky dark hair, as well as slobbering all over his shirt. Fiammetta, beside him, was completely entranced by the child in her arms and the one in Levianath's, her entire demeanor having brightened into something Julian hadn't ever thought he'd witness. All the seriousness he knew about her was gone, replaced with a gleeful, animated excitement. So, she had a soft spot for kids.

"And this," Julian said, clapping Levianath on the shoulder, "is my pal, Levianath. You didn't meet him when he was here last."

Levianath hoisted the child into one arm and shook Nyela's hand at her request, nodding at her charmingly and then returning his attention to the kid who'd now stretched up and grabbed his pointed ear.

Nyela laughed. "Lemme free you from the iron grip that is Celwin Silverpaw," she reached out and pried the toddler from the Warlock, but as soon as she'd done so, a sharp wail erupted from the child's mouth. This made his twin begin bawling as well, and Levianath and Julian both cringed at the sound. Celwin's tiny arms stretched out for Levianath, and Nyela laughed apologetically.

"I think he likes you," she said while trying to calm the child, and she peered at Celwin sideways. "He looks like daddy, doesn't he? Yes, I miss him, too."

Levianath shifted his stance, staring at the kid a moment. "I could take him back, if it'll...calm things down."

"Would you?" Nyela was visibly relieved, and she handed Celwin off without skipping a beat. The fussing child quieted immediately, resting his snowy head against Levianath's collarbone and sniffling, and in response, his twin quieted as well.

"Wow," Julian let out a surprised laugh. "Who would've pegged you as a pacifier?"

The look on Levianath's face, to most anyone else, would've seemed nothing more than a resting expression, but Julian caught the unnerved glint behind the man's eyes. Here was Levianath Darkrunner coddling a baby, something he probably thought he'd never do. Something he'd most likely vowed never to do, actually.

It seemed Fiammetta had gotten the same idea, because Julian noticed her staring at Levianath curiously, watching the way he'd interacted with the child. There held a look on her face of intrigue, and as her eyes flicked down to the baby resting against his chest, she blinked a few times, allowing a subtle smile to cover her lips as she returned her attention to the child in her own arms. It was such a quick action, one she most likely had thought gone unseen, but Julian had caught it.

Outside the giant tree, he heard the rain begin to fall hard against the leaves of the trees and the ground in a soothing patter. Many tribesmembers who didn't prefer to be caught in the downpour began to file into the tree and head on up to their respective rooms. Julian received a few hugs from various friends who welcomed him home, as well as a generous bear hug from his green-haired mentor, Glenn. Glenn's relief at seeing him home rivaled with Nyela's.

Fiammetta handed Lucian Jr. to Julian when she and Nyela went off to discuss buying fruit, so Julian, Reece, Levianath, and the two white-haired babies ended up relaxing in comfortable seats in the large foyer. Baby Lucian was wide awake as the three of them chatted quietly, but Celwin had not lifted his head from Levianath's chest and was completely asleep. Now that Julian thought about it, Levianath did sort of look like Sarion. The dark hair, mainly, was the biggest similarity, along with the chin scruff. No wonder the baby liked him.

Reece sat beside Julian, now holding the baby upright on her lap, and bounced him up and down playfully. Little Lucian giggled happily and made bubbly sounds with his mouth, and Reece recited a few little rhymes that Julian had never heard before.

It wasn't long before Fiammetta and Nyela returned, and when Fiammetta laid eyes on Levianath and sleeping Celwin, Julian could've sworn the woman had melted where she stood. Nyela scooped both babies into her arms, thanking Levianath, and headed up the ramp again to put them to bed.

Levianath brushed his shirt off a little, smirking slightly at the tiny bit of drool on the fabric left behind by the child. He stood from where he'd been sitting.

"Well, that was...interesting," he murmured, and stretched his arms out to the sides. "Babysitting. Checking that one off my list. Anywho, I'm off to the bank then."

"You're going now?" Julian stood, too.

He took a deep breath. "Yes I am." A few moments passed of silence between the two, before Levianath's brows tightened slightly. "I guess this is goodbye. Thanks for...everything."

Julian stared at the man, and then shamelessly pulled the Warlock into a squeezing hug. A half-second passed before Julian felt Levianath finally hug him back, which only made him tighten his arms in response. He'd never gotten a hug _back _from the man until now. The thought that this might be the last time he'd see him in a very long time made his heart constrict.

When he finally pulled back, Levianath had nothing more than a simple, calm smile on his face. Julian forced his own smile, and finally swallowed down the lump in his throat. Reece then butted in and hugged the man, and Levianath chuckled and hugged her back.

"Anyone messes with you, send them my way, kid," Levianath told her, and she nodded when she released him.

The half-elf eyed them all teasingly. "Sheesh, you all act like I'm about to die or something. This isn't goodbye forever."

"Promise?" Reece demanded.

"Yeah, I promise. Now quit with the waterworks." He mussed her scruffy hair with one hand.

Levianath regarded Fiammetta at last. She, apparently not good at farewells, straightened up her posture and gave him a somewhat professional look, holding out her hand to shake his. The man cocked his head at her, eyes holding mischief. He took her hand in his, but instead of shaking it, he tugged her in and brought her face to his, kissing her extravagantly. She appeared only momentarily surprised before relenting.

Julian wrinkled his nose, and Reece stuck her tongue out in a 'gross!' manner, but the two of them did laugh. Levianath pulled away from Fiammetta after being ridiculously thorough, grinned at her, and gave her a look that probably only she could read. Julian grimaced. Levianath's world was an entirely different planet from his own.

Before Levianath could disappear, Julian spoke up.

"Come back after you're done at the bank to say goodbye, just in case you do end up moving somewhere far away and I don't see you for like...years. This is too sudden for me, man," he let out his breath in a huff.

Levianath laughed, nodded, waved goodbye, and with that, he was gone. Part of Julian felt sorrow in seeing him go, but another part was happy that he finally got what he wanted. Levianath was free, and after months, he was ultimately back to what he had set out to do long ago, to start over a new life.

Fiammetta spoke, now, pulling Julian out of his thoughts. She'd recovered from Levianath's unconventional goodbye.

"Reece," she announced, "I think it's about time we head back to the ship."

Julian looked at the Troll. "It's fine if you guys stay here, too. I mean, if all you're doing is sleeping on the ship while we wait for my parents to return, you might as well."

Fiammetta smiled slightly at him. "If Reece would like to stay, she can. I'll be returning to my own cabin. Reece, you know where to find us if you need anything."

Reece beamed at this. "Awesome."

Fiammetta gave them both a knowing look, and then regarded Julian. "I'll be sending over some of our crew in the morning to pick up the fruit I bought. Sleep well, Reece."

Reece waved at the Troll woman as she left, and then turned to Julian with that dimpled, freckled smile. "So."

"So," he grinned back at her, happy to be home, and happy to have Reece with him at his home.

"How about a tour?"

"Sure!" he piped excitedly, and looped an arm over her shoulder.

The rest of the day was spent introducing her to his friends, showing her his favorite places to spend his time, and showing off his old engineering projects which had all but been forgotten while he was away. With introductions, he'd kept up her male identity, and it appeared she preferred it that way anyways. It was what she was most used to, and it'd do no good to have the tribe believing one thing while the pirates believed another, especially if the two ever collided.

The cabin boy's magnetic personality had drawn smiles from everyone she spoke with, and her husky laugh was so infectious that it evoked additional laughter from all who heard it. Julian almost felt like he was showing her off to the people he introduced her to. She was just that awesome. He didn't much think until later about how his arm had been looped around her shoulders constantly, and how he was happiest when he felt her warmth against him. The closer her proximity to him, the more content he felt.

When nighttime finally fell, he lent Reece his own remodeled bedroom across from Nyela's and took for himself one of the unused guest rooms in the subterranean levels of the tree.

Despite the man's promise, Levianath did not return, and Julian fell asleep with that troubling thought swirling his mind.

* * *

Levianath didn't come back the next day either, or even the following week, and Julian couldn't help but feel a little hurt at that. Part of him hoped Levianath had broken his promise, that he'd gotten his money and had gone off and bought some great mansion somewhere and was living it up. But a darker part of him held a creeping feeling that something had happened, that something was wrong. He wanted to believe that Levianath would've been true to his word and would've come back to say goodbye before finally disappearing, but in order to believe that, he'd have to believe that Levianath was also currently in trouble or was not okay. So he told himself that the man had ignored his promise and was fine, because any other assumption would stress him out to no end.

He had Reece to keep him company though, and Reece got along swimmingly with Julian's circle of guy friends. They'd warmed up to her immediately upon learning that she was a pirate, and they ate up her stories of her experiences on the ship. She'd even beaten a few of them at arm-wrestling and just plain real wrestling, which had given Julian an unshakable streak of pride.

Fiammetta had returned more frequently over the week. At first it was just to buy goods, but as time progressed she'd spent more time with Nyela and the various young babies (Julian's baby brother Finn, his twin nephews Celwin and Lucian, Glenn's six-month-old daughter Zinnia, etc.) and less time discussing business. Julian and Reece got the idea that she was just using the whole 'fruit-buying' as an excuse to play with the little ones, which they found to be endearing. It made Fiammetta seem a little more approachable, in Julian's opinion.

One night, he and Reece ended up passed out on his bed in his room after playing hangman for nearly two straight hours. Papers were strewn everywhere with poorly-drawn stick figures and unfilled blanks and various outrageously-obscure words scrawled all over them. Reece lay with her head nearly lolling off the side of his bed, and he was sleeping facing the wrong way.

It was rare Julian ever had nightmares, or at least, rare he ever remembered them, but in this case, Levianath was the subject of his dreams, and they were more vivid than ever before. He dreamt he was fighting some impossible, invisible force for Levianath's heart, but in the end, the heart had been ripped in half, and Julian was left with both pieces.

He heard a cry of agony echo through his head, clearly Levianath's, and he jolted awake in his bed, sitting upright abruptly, hands balled so tightly his knuckles turned white. A cold sweat clung to his skin, and he released a whooshing breath, eyes peering through the darkness at his own shaking hands. In his dream, they'd been doused in blood, and in the low light he couldn't tell if they were or not. His palms felt clammy.

He tried to calm his breathing, realizing Reece was beside him, but couldn't. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and let his hands curl into the sheets at either side of him, the images of his nightmare so vivid that he couldn't get them out of his sight. He felt terrified for his friend, and he had no idea why. He felt terrified for Lily, too, as all his worries regarding her had suddenly caught up with him in the worst timing imaginable.

Claustrophobia gripped him out of nowhere, and he felt his lungs constrict. Panic consumed him, and he curled his arms around himself in a ball and began to gasp for the breath that evaded him. He had no idea where this was coming from, why it was all hitting him now. His mind couldn't function properly, and all he could think about was the unwavering idea that his friends were in grave danger, and he was powerless to help them.

The bed shifted, and Reece was suddenly sitting there beside him, her own long legs dangling over the edge, brushing against his. She peered up at him in the darkness, her dark eyes reflecting the golden light that shone through his own. He was still shivering, breathing hard. To add to his current worries, he'd just woken her up.

"It's Levianath, isn't it?" her voice was just barely over a whisper. "I thought I was the only one worried about him."

Julian couldn't even talk or respond, and instead he just broke. He was silent, but his crying wracked his shoulders and came straight from his heart. Reece pulled his head down and hugged him, and he immediately hugged her back, burying his face in her neck. His arms were wrapped around her wiry frame, holding her tightly, feeling comforted just by her touch. She held him there for a good minute as he tried to get a grip.

"Something's wrong," Julian sniffed, still hugging her tightly. Even the scent of her clothes calmed him. "He's not safe. Something happened to him, I know it."

She just tightened her hug. Finally he pulled his face back an inch, just enough to talk, his cheek brushing hers as he did so.

"Reece, I'm so sorry for waking y-"

His sentence never finished. Any and all previous thought left his mind when he felt her angle her face and capture his mouth in her own, a pure, simple kiss. Her lightly-chapped lips were warm and soft against his, innocent and sweet. It was brief, but not too brief, and lasted just long enough for Julian to calculate its significance. When she pulled away, she cupped the side of his face with her hand, lingering so close he could nearly feel her lips against his still, their noses brushing together feather-lightly. His heart had erupted in butterflies, and his earlier worries were tossed into the wind. He was now completely frozen, barely breathing, holding onto the moment like it would disappear.

He swallowed, his golden eyes flicking between hers in the darkness. He saw her smile, her freckles just barely visible to his keen sight.

"Get some sleep now, Songbird," she murmured, her voice his balm, and she pulled away from him in order to crawl into the blankets. She patted the pillow beside her.

Julian was speechless, but he wordlessly curled up in the warmth of the bed. He was now more awake than ever, mind racing, and even after minutes had ticked by and Reece's breathing evened out, Julian continued to stare up at the ceiling long after she had fallen asleep.

Holy cow. Reece Black had just kissed him. Reece _kissed_ him. She was in his bed, beside him, and she'd kissed him. The thoughts swirled in his mind as he tried to make sense of them, and he couldn't help but let a dazed smile flicker into place on his lips.

The lanky teen shifted in her sleep and snuggled up against him now, burying her face against his arm, and his heart fluttered at her touch. His mind played their kiss over and over, analyzing and picking, until he eventually, finally fell into a far more peaceful slumber as well.

* * *

The redhead awoke before Reece the next morning, unsurprisingly, and he quietly crept out of his room, closing the previously-already-open door behind himself, which he must have left open the night before or something.

He headed down the ramp, grabbed a fruity breakfast, and walked around the orchard, waving hello to and chatting with anyone who acknowledged his presence. As he walked leisurely back to the tree, a hand fell on his arm, and he startled a little stronger than he should have, whipping around only to see that it was just his older sister.

"Whoa!" Nyela said, half-laughing and holding her hands up passively. "It's just me, Julian."

He offered a smile and took a bite of his fruit. "Sorry."

She watched him with a hilarious look on her face, somewhere between a smug grin and genuine mischief. "You know, I always knew it."

"Knew what?" he asked her curiously, leaning his back against a tree beside him.

She grinned at him. "My room is across from yours. Your door was left open. I saw you and your friend Reece asleep together this morning."

"Ah!" Julian said, nodding and grinning back. "Yeah. Reece is...wonderful." He resisted a blush as he remembered their kiss from last night, and furthermore that his sister had probably inferred they'd done more than what'd actually happened.

"He clearly makes you so happy," Nyela smiled. "I'm glad you found one another. But you could've told your own sister the truth about you."

Julian's brows arched. _Oh. _Nyela, of course, obviously, thought Reece was a guy. Julian finally just caught on to what she was talking about, and he laughed suddenly. "Wait, no, I'm not ga-" he began, but then caught himself, blinking a few times. He was torn between allowing his sister to believe Reece's lie, or telling her the truth, but realized it wasn't his secret to tell. He had no right to tell Reece's secret to anyone, not even family.

Nyela stared at him. "You're not? Julian, c'mon, you don't have to lie. I think it's precious." Her smile broke out again. "I'm not surprised, either. I think we all sort of knew it from the beginning. And I can speak for your whole family and tribe when I say that out of all the guys you could have brought back, you chose a good one. Reece is amazing."

_Knew it from the beginning?_ What was that supposed to mean? Suddenly it was all he could do to keep from laughing harder, and he bit back his grin. So, this had taken a direction he hadn't intended it to. These people all think he's in love with a boy? He found that hilarious. Fine with him. He _was_ in love with Reece, as simple as that.

"Yeah, well, you know me," Julian said playfully. "Taking bromances to a whole different level."

"And with a human, no less!" his sister chuckled. "You're full of surprises, little brother."

"Little?" he snorted and stood up tall, towering over her. "Really!"

"Aw, you know I could kick your ass," she laughed back and patted the side of his cheek.

He laughed again and was about to say something further, but Nyela's eyes traveled behind him, and she suddenly let out a high-pitched squeal of excitement and bolted past him. Stunned, he donned a look of confusion and turned around, only to see the magenta-haired woman launch herself into the arms of Sarion Dawnstar, who'd clearly just arrived. Sarion gave a cheerful, affectionate laugh as he was pelted with kisses, and he lifted her up off the ground and kissed her back.

Julian snorted at the display of affection. She'd clearly missed him. A lot.

To his relief he saw his parents walk around the bend then, both of them laughing at Nyela's show. They were accompanied by Fiammetta and Captain Darkrunner, and Julian brightened and jogged over to them, giving both Norivana and Lucian big hugs before pulling back excitedly.

"How'd it go? What'd you find? Did you save Lily? Is she alright?" he battered them with questions, and Norivana smiled at him.

"Slow down, and take a breath. We didn't save Lily, but we know where she is."

Julian's eyes widened, and he stared at his mother, coaxing her to continue.

She shook her head. "You're not going to like this."

* * *

**Dun dun duuunn...**


	16. Salvation

**Hey readers! Shoutout to all of you for being wonderful! :)**

**Reviews:**

**Mythique: Mwahaha! Mangle and Mrs. Fluffy make me ridiculously happy. xD**

**Zarabethe: Ahh, the gay crisis still makes me giggle. :D I can't wait 'til they're back on the ship. **

**Ophianara: Thanks! :D This chapter sort of clears up the Levianath conundrum, but he's still got a lot of explaining to do...**

**LadyRaftina: Hahaha how about both of those things combined! You're right on point! :P **

**Suneeku: Levianath is actually going to have an unorthodox savior in this chapter, heheh. And thanks! :)**

* * *

"She. Did. _What?"_ Julian, in his shock, arose from his seat among a moderately-sized collection of people. Sarion, Nyela, Norivana, Lucian, Captain Darkrunner, Fiammetta, and Reece were all circled around a crackling fire.

His frosty giant of a father held up one broad hand, motioning for Julian to calm himself and sit back in his seat. "Now, hold on," he said in a deep, tranquil tone. "Julian, let her finish."

Julian didn't sit down, but he fixed his stare back on his mother, who'd been the one giving the news. Norivana had her youngest, Finnian, in her arms as she spoke.

"Lily has taken rank as a taskmaster in the main Saltsprocket excavation camp. We can't be entirely sure that that's true, though. We're going by the words of a few Saltsprocket contacts captured by Captain Darkrunner last week." Baby Finn, in her arms, repeated the word 'week' with surprisingly-accurate pronunciation, catching Julian momentarily off-guard.

Norivana continued without missing a beat. "However, as much as we all hope that she hasn't done what we fear she has, we need to consider that it is a viable possibility and we need to prepare accordingly."

At his mother's words, Julian felt his breath becoming shallow, and he ran one hand through his hair roughly, collapsing back down into his seat beside Reece. "She's... she's not in danger, then, at least?"

"As far as we know, she's living like a queen."

Again, Finnian repeated her last word in his tiny voice, and Norivana smiled at the baby rewardingly.

Stunned and speechless at the idea of Lily actually _joining_ the slavers, Julian spent a minute trying to form words, his eyes searching the ground as if it held answers. In his stead, Nyela spoke up.

"I can't believe Lily would do that, though," she said quietly. "I'll admit she can be a little...shallow, now and then, but she's a good person. There's got to be more to it. Maybe she's being blackmailed. Maybe the new taskmaster is..." she let a horrified expression flicker into place. "Do you think it's possible that it's all against her will? What if she's...being forced?"

At the thought of something so awful, Julian's hands tightened into fists as he stared at the ground. His throat stung. Rarely ever did he feel anger, but he was definitely feeling it now. Not only at the thought of the girl being forced into anything, but also at the thought of her, someone he'd essentially idolized for years, doing something so terribly wrong. He felt Reece's hand rubbing his back consolingly, and it calmed him a single degree, but he couldn't loosen his fists.

Norivana spoke in response to her daughter. "Honestly, I'm not sure which one I'd rather believe. One redeems her, and the other condemns."

Julian swallowed hard and finally found his voice. "It doesn't matter which one we believe. We need to get her out of there." He urged himself not to dwell on which was worse, her truly going to the dark side, or her being forced into it. Both upset him substantially, but in wildly different ways.

"He's right," Sarion nodded at him. "Regardless, something must be done about the Tanaris camp."

"Ah! A voice of reason," the Blood Elf pirate captain piped in after remaining quiet 'til now. "Provided we have adequate manpower, now that we know the camp is in a state of upheaval, it is weak enough that we can strike. And succeed." His eyes glinted at the thought. "We won't get another chance like this."

"Raphael's guild would help with that," Nyela added. "If only he were _here,_ that is." She'd said that in a somewhat grudging tone, and then added the next part mostly as a mumble, "damn Rogue is too busy for old friends."

Sarion, beside her, smirked sideways at her snappy remark before rejoining the conversation. "We can get word out to him fairly easily, if we know who to talk to. I'm guessing you do, Captain?"

Darkrunner nodded. "Consider it done. Given he believes he's fighting for a sensible cause, he'll give us the forces we need. And I do believe this falls under the 'sensible' category."

Julian finally broke in again. "So...what, you're-" he made a waving gesture with his arms, "-throwing together a massive army of Rogues and pirates and storming the slavers' castle in the middle of the Tanarian desert? Wouldn't you say that's a bit grandiose?"

"Criminals fighting criminals. What in the world is more fun?" The captain grinned back.

"I can think of a lot of things, actually," Julian mumbled back morosely, slumping in his seat, forcing himself not to dwell too much on Lily. If he did, he'd be a wreck. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was all his fault. Not to mention, his worry for Levianath was still gnawing at him, which didn't help his mood one bit. Something in the back of his mind kept telling him that Levianath was in trouble, something he couldn't shake.

Darkrunner merely smirked, and he stood from his seat. "Allow me one week, two at most, to contact Master Amaranth. We'll be in touch."

He and Fiammetta gave their polite goodbyes and headed back to their ship, which was now anchored just north of the harbor. Julian sat there in silence for a good while, resting beside Reece as everyone stared at the fire for a few minutes, listening to the crackling of the logs and the hushed wind in the leaves above. Despite it being midday, the sky was grey and cloudy, making the forest seem even darker than usual, and crickets had picked up.

Norivana had passed baby Finnian to his father, and Lucian propped the small child in his lap as he, relaxing, spoke with his wife, their conversation nothing more than a calming hum. Finn was content to gum his own hand and listen to his parents speaking, staring at their mouths when they'd talk. Julian, watching the baby, wondered how much the kid really understood. He was, what, nine months old? Nine and a half? Hmm.

Nyela and Sarion were curled up on another side of the fire, the two of them also murmuring back and forth quietly here and there. Julian felt almost as if he and Reece were the odd ones out, sitting side-by-side and watching the flames. He had no idea what to say to her right now; his mind was still a little stunned and useless.

He felt her soft gaze on him. "I'm...sorry about Lily," she said quietly.

Julian just shrugged a little, turning his eyes to the side, staring intently at a large fern by his leg. "Yeah. Me too." A few heavy beats passed, and he swallowed back his negativity guiltily and directed his eyes toward her. He didn't like to be sad around her. It felt wrong. He cleared his throat, offering a benign smile. "Hi."

"Hi," she smiled back. Her scruffy brown hair was mussed up from her having been asleep only an hour ago. When Julian's parents had arrived, he'd fetched her before they all settled around the fire. She'd probably spent this entire time waking up.

He let his arm loop around her, not considering that they had eyes, and cozied up closer to her. He caught how her smile intensified at this, and it made him too smile brighter. This entire thing between them was new to him, as he'd never actually been in any sort of relationship or situation that would call for something like this, but he liked it.

One glance in Nyela's direction let him know that she and Sarion were both watching him with humored grins plastered on their faces, and when he made brief eye contact with his sister, she threw him a double thumbs-up and an overly-excited smile.

He resisted an eye-roll and returned his attention to Reece, eyeing her sideways.

"You kissed me last night," he said in a quiet, playful tone for her ears only, biting his lip teasingly when he saw her cheeks paint themselves a shade of pink.

"You were having a panic attack," she countered reasonably. "I helped."

"Oh, that's all it was? How thoughtful of you," he grinned, tilting his head so he could see her expression better. "How'd you know it would work? Drawing from experience?"

"For your information," she chuckled back in her throaty voice, "It was a complete shot in the dark."

"I should have panic attacks more often."

She just smiled a little stronger.

He looked down at the ground, and then angled his head toward her. "If you ever feel like trying it again, I won't stop you."

She snickered. "I'll keep that in mind."

Julian then laughed to himself mostly. "Just to warn you though, Nyela and probably a good majority of the people you know here all believe we're gay for each other."

"For real?" she bubbled into laughter.

"Well I mean, it's entirely our fault. Or, uh, mine, really."

Reece peered at him with a question written in her features, urging him to clarify.

"Let's just say," he hesitated a second, biting the inside of his cheek humorously as he tried to gather his thoughts, and he spoke hurriedly. "I kind of, sort of, care about you a lot, and other people probably caught onto that fairly easily. It's not like I've been trying to hide it."

Her already-happy expression broke into a vibrant, beaming smile, the kind that dimpled her cheeks and warmed his heart. Even when the world seemed like it was trying to stomp on his happiness, he knew that this girl's pure, genuine smile would always be there to pick him back up.

Their little interaction was interrupted when, across the fire, Sarion stood suddenly, staring at something through the trees. Everyone looked at him in confusion and then followed his eyes.

When Julian saw what Sarion saw, he stood as well, as did Reece.

"Levianath-!" Julian breathed, staring at the man standing just out of the light of the flame.

Levianath looked terrible, and not only that, but dazed. His shirt was torn and spattered in dried blood, and his hair was bedraggled and lifeless as it fell down his shoulders. The look in his green eyes was one of pure exhaustion, as if he'd slept in the streets for the past week. He looked even worse now than he had when Julian had first met him.

Julian made to step forward, but at his sudden movement, Levianath startled and flipped his previously-blank stare to Julian.

"Lev, what happened?" Julian coaxed, stepping forward slowly. The man was on edge, and his eyes were glowing brighter than Julian had ever seen them. They darted about erratically, tense and cautious.

Levianath stepped back a single pace. "I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Are you alright? Is that blood?" Julian approached him carefully. Levianath stumbled backward, eyes on Julian, and Julian paused. "Hey, it's alright, man. It's just me."

Levianath stared at Julian blankly, and his next words rendered Julian speechless. "Who are you?"

Julian's mouth parted open, but no words came to him, and he glanced back at Reece in stunned confusion. Suddenly a flash of green light lit up the area, and Julian whipped his head back toward Levianath, only to see the man's imp standing there beside his master.

"Good, you're here," the imp seemed pleased to see Julian, his high-pitched voice somewhat grating. Everyone else around the fire had stood from their seats as well, and Lucian placed himself between the demon and his wife and infant son, watching the creature like a hawk. Norivana ultimately decided to take the baby back to the tree, and she quietly slipped away.

"What's going on, Pip'tai?" Julian asked warily.

"Your pal here is in trouble."

Levianath's eyes brightened to where they nearly looked like they burned with green flame themselves, and he snorted in response to his imp, looking about to retort, but Pip'tai released an odd spell that made Levianath's eyelids flutter half-shut, like a silencer or a pacifier of some sort.

"Let's just say he bit off more than he can chew."

"What are you talking about? And what did you just do to him?" Julian stepped forward, as did Reece, the two of them ignoring the murmured warnings from the others. "Levianath, what is going on?"

"This might help ya make a little more sense," Pip'tai hopped up and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from a pocket of Levianath's trousers, and stretched tall to hand it to Julian.

Julian unfolded it, attempting to read the crumpled writing. A moment passed, and his eyes widened in worry. "Felguard appropriation and...assimilation of powers?" he whispered to himself, and then spoke louder. "Pip...did Levianath use this spell?"

"What is it?" Sarion asked, stepping forward and taking the parchment to read it himself. Julian bolstered himself for Sarion's reaction; he knew Sarion hated demons, and this went against everything the man valued.

As expected, Sarion's fingers tightened around the paper, his claws breaking through it as he turned his gaze to Levianath. "You've got to be joking," he growled.

Levianath blinked a little, recovering from Pip's spell, and flicked his green gaze to Sarion. "Pardon?"

Again, Pip silenced him.

Sarion took a hard step toward the dazed Warlock, his upper lip curling, and Julian's shoulders tensed at the man's tone. "You have ten seconds to leave this orchard before I rip you limb from limb. Your vile kind is unwelcome here."

"Whoa, whoa!" Lucian finally cut in in surprise at Sarion's drastic word choice. "Elune's breath, Sarion, give it a moment! What has he done?"

"He has forsaken his humanity," Sarion stiffly handed the paper to Lucian, muttering the next part under his breath, "and just when I thought we were done with demons."

Lucian read it as well. His expression hardened, and he, after a heavy bout of silence, sighed contemplatively.

"Yikes," the frosty giant frowned. "Yes, he probably should leave. This is no place for demons, especially not of this magnitude." He braced the back of his hand against Sarion's chest to make him back off. "However, Sarion, I've seen Warlocks do this before; they're still themselves despite the power they wield. As much as you hate his practice, he's still a person. You can't kill him."

"That's where it went wrong," Pip'tai piped up, becoming frustrated. "Like I said, he bit off more than he can chew. I'd told him, meld with something easy, like his voidwalker, but the dumbass elf tried for a felguard, and ended up botching the spell and assimilating powers with a damned _doomguard _instead."

"So what exactly is wrong with him?" Reece asked from beside Julian.

"Man's lost his mind, literally." The imp sighed. "Minds ain't built for two sets of controls. He ain't fully possessed, but he's everything shy of it. He's got control of the demon, but the demon has control of...everything else. Likely, he don't even remember who he is."

"So he's a demonically super-charged amnesiac?" Sarion sighed.

"Yes."

Julian approached and then stared at his friend with sorrowful eyes. Levianath's distant, dazed stare bore right through him, unfocused due to Pip'tai's spell. How could Levianath do something like that? He was supposed to be off living somewhere in paradise, with loads of money and not a care in the world. He wasn't supposed to be...this. Julian felt let-down not only by Lily but now by Levianath as well. Why was it the people he looked up to most seemed to end up doing the worst sort of things?

He felt Reece walk up next to him and stare at the man as well.

"He has money, doesn't he?" she murmured. "So why is he dressed in...rags?" she reached out and brushed the tattered cloth on the man's arm. Levianath reacted violently to her touch, cringing back and letting out what was basically a hiss.

"Get that magic away from me," he seethed, his eyes flaring up brightly to where the fel magic licked at his brows. Julian immediately grabbed Reece and pulled her back, and he heard Sarion's voice as the man jumped to intervene.

"And there we go, he blew his chance," Sarion sounded peeved, and Julian looked at him just in time to see him rolling up his sleeves as if preparing to hit the guy. Lucian stopped him bluntly, though, and instead calmly walked up to Levianath, studied his face for a second, and then without warning, knocked him out cold. Not with a fist or an attack, but with two fingers to the man's temple and whatever spell he'd held in his hand. It'd been so quick that Levianath hadn't been able to react.

Levianath crumpled into a heap, and Lucian caught him in his arms, laying him down on the ground.

"Ooh, teach me," the imp said, and Lucian sent the demon a dismissive look before standing up and turning to Sarion.

Sarion gave a slight smirk and looked at the Warlock. It seemed that with Levianath out, he'd gone right back to his good mood. "Well," he said brightly, "that's taken care of. I know what to do with him."

"Will whatever you're going to do _help_ him?" Lucian warned hesitantly. "I forbid you to kill or harm him, Sarion."

Sarion put a hand to his own heart and looked dramatically appalled. "Kill him? Have a little faith, chief! I may want to see the guy six feet under, but my little brother here doesn't," he reached out and tugged Julian under his arm in a teasing hug, which was a little difficult since Julian was almost taller than he was. "I'll fix him. I know just the cure. Everyone deserves a second chance. I know I've had too many," he glanced back at Nyela.

Julian smirked at Sarion and weaseled his way out of the guy's arm. "So _you're_ going to help him?"

"Leave it to me," Sarion nodded. He knelt down and picked Levianath up, tossing the apparently-lightweight elf over one shoulder somewhat hilariously, and then turned to Nyela, who was now standing next to him.

She gave him a direct, serious look. "Don't let anything happen to yourself, Sarion. Not again."

"I promise, I won't do a thing to risk that," he gave her a soft smile, which was out-of-place with the unconscious elf swung over his arm. He bent down and caught a sweet, short kiss, and then took off toward the city, and the imp remaining vanished in a poof of dark mist.

Julian let out a long, deep sigh, and he and the others headed back to the tree. Whatever Sarion's plan was, Julian could only pray it would work, for both Levianath's sake and his own. If it turned out he lost his best friend to something like _this_, he had no idea what he'd do.

* * *

_Levianath, One Week Earlier_

* * *

Levianath was furious.

Upon returning to the bank in the Dwarven district, he'd discovered that every last copper had been withdrawn from his account there. How in the world, he had no idea. That vault had been secured with his own blood, and only his blood could unlock it. He'd been very particular with this; specific enough that his siblings would not be able to use their own.

So he headed to the other bank across town, and discovered that _both _accounts there had also been drained. He was left with nothing, definitely not enough to live on either. In his backpack were couple clothing changes, about fifty silver pieces gifted to him as payment for helping on his father's ship, and a stupid Warlock grimoire.

He knew it was all thanks to his siblings, and so he decided without further ado to address the issue head-on.

By now dusk was falling, and the rain only continued to pelt against the stone streets as Levianath came upon his brother Jonas's doorstep. He summoned Pip'tai for good measure, and let himself in the wooden door, not bothering to close it behind himself as he strode in.

"Jonas!" he nearly roared, searching for signs of life in the dark house. "I know it was you! Where's my money?"

He glanced in the kitchen, off down the hall into the bedroom, and a single glance into the living room before he let his lip curl in annoyance. "Shit," he swore to himself, leaning his arms against the back of a sofa as he wracked his brain. Jonas had to return sometime, right? After all, this was his home. Levianath was a little surprised that the man had left it unlocked.

"Well, Pip," Levianath sniffed. "I suppose we could at least leave him a message."

Pip eyed the Warlock slyly. "We thinkin' the same thing?"

"I don't know about you, but I was just planning on trashing the place. But if you have a better idea..."

Pip'tai drew fel flame into his hands. "Leave it to the master," he said in his sharp voice. "I'm tired of seein' those humans punch you around like their own personal combat dummy. You wanna get back at them for good, you gotta take drastic measures."

As he spoke, the creature had begun scrawling burnt runes and letters all over the floor, walls, and even the ceiling. By the time he was done, it looked like Levianath's spell grimoire had vomited its pages all over the interior of the suite.

"What's the point of this?" Levianath laughed slightly, a little amused at how shocking the sight would be to anyone unfamiliar with demonic runes. "These are summoning rituals you've written, and I don't even want to know what the rest of them are."

The imp nodded. "Like I've been telling you for months, step one to true demonology is fusing with one. Tapping its powers. Call up Vol'xac and we'll get this started."

"You want me to do that now? Right here, in my brother's house?"

"It's just as good as anyplace else," the imp reasoned.

A second passed. "Actually, I've got something better than a voidwalker," Levianath replied, swinging his backpack off one shoulder and pulling out the stray page from the spell tome. "Check this out." He handed it to the imp.

Pip'tai read it for about ten quiet seconds before his face scrunched up in ambivalence. "Eh, boss, I donno if a felguard is the way to go. That's above my grade and yours."

"It says it all right here, though," Levianath tapped the paper. "Couldn't you alter the runes to fit this spell?"

"Well, it's the same spell through and through to merge a 'Lock with his minion. You just gotta _summon_ the felguard before you can take its power, and that's where things get fishy."

"Fishy how?"

"Those demons don't fuck around. You muck the spell, you give 'em an extra inch of freedom, and they'll either wear you like a suit or, all the same to them, eat you. I ain't powerful enough to take over a whole person, but these guys?" the imp shook his head.

"Well just make sure that I get the spell right and we've got nothing to worry about," Levianath hummed. "I read up on it on the ship. It's a lot easier than I thought it'd be."

Pip shrugged his hands, which burned with his natural fire. "Your wish is my command, Boss. I'll help as much as I can."

"Wonderful," Levianath gave a scheming yet bright smile. "Now let's get started."

* * *

_Sarion_ \- _Present Day_

* * *

Although Levianath was a tall man, the thin elf was surprisingly lightweight and easy to carry. Sarion had received odd looks from guards especially as he meandered through the town, but he'd shrugged the situation off with them by explaining that Levianath was inebriated and that he was toting him home.

Well, that was only _sort of_ a lie. Sarion _was_ taking the man to _a_ home, just not his home.

He reached his destination and knocked on the door, three crisp knocks. He sniffed and rolled the shoulder Levianath was slumped over, and then the door opened.

Sarion hadn't seen the man in months. Tiberius Strom looked back to his old self now. His hair was medium-length, blonde as it naturally was, and he offered Sarion a confused smile as he stepped aside in the doorway. The man looked as if he'd been expecting someone else.

"Sarion? What are you doing here?" he glanced into the street, and then returned his stare to the unconscious half-elf. "And what...is that?"

"May I come in?" Sarion smirked sideways, and Tiberius nodded hesitantly, welcoming him.

Sarion shuffled indoors, setting Levianath upright in the first chair he found. The half-elf, limp as a ragdoll, slumped forward so his face drooped between his knees, but that was totally fine with Sarion.

"So...what's going on?" Tiberius folded his arms, leaning against his counter top. Sarion took a moment to appreciate the quality of Tiberius's living space. The man had a nice home, and had decorated well.

Sarion brushed his hands on his pants. "You still have that staff of yours?"

"Of course I do," Tiberius's brows tightened. "You haven't gotten yourself involved with the demons again, have you?"

"I haven't, but Julian's friend did," Sarion nodded his head toward Levianath. "His name's Levianath." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the crumpled paper explaining the spell. "Dumbass handed his reigns over to a doomguard. His imp said he lost his memories, that the demon 'stole his mind.'"

"Oh, lovely," the human retorted sarcastically, reading through the spell. "This man is Sin'dorei, though, and if he even touches the staff, it'll do more harm than good. You remember what happened to Ephraim, yeah?"

"I remember well," Sarion nodded. "But between you and me, it's entirely fine if we rough this guy up a little. He doesn't deserve special treatment. He brought this upon himself. I can't even fathom why the hell someone would do something this stupid, but I try not to question insanity."

Tiberius chuckled slightly and shook his head. "Even so, what I'm saying is the staff could _really _damage him. He'd wish he were dead if we expel the fel from him for too long. Fel addiction is one thing; Fel withdrawal is another. Depending on how long he's relied on the stuff, it might even kill him. Not only that, but since he _chose_ to let the demon in, the staff might only piss it off." He paused a moment, leaning on his elbows, and let out a low whistle. "That's a lot of fel energy he's got. I can feel it from here."

"So...can it be fixed, or not?" Sarion leaned against the counter top as well, looking at the unconscious elf.

Tiberius cracked his knuckles. "Aye, I think it can still be fixed. Wait here." He disappeared down a hallway. For a moment, Sarion could've sworn he heard Tiberius speaking to another man, but he couldn't be sure.

Tiberius returned after a while with a thick, runed vellum, as well as a few various magical orbs, and a large vial of greyish-purple potion. As he worked at organizing everything onto a dining table next to Levianath, he spoke.

"To get this to work, we need to speak to Levianath. But we need to speak to him without speaking to the demon. That's the only way we can get him to expel it, and if the demon is in charge, that isn't happening."

"And we do that, how?"

"We get inside his head," Tiberius smiled. "Or, one of us does, and I'm the one conducting the spells. So that leaves you. I'll connect the two of you telepathically. You have to find him and convince him to kick the demon out. I've done it before a couple times while working in the cathedral; it's not so bad. You'd be surprised at what we Priests do on a weekly basis. The demon is not dangerous unless it is in our physical world. In the mind of its host, it is just an idea."

"Great," Sarion snorted. "I get a firsthand look inside the mind of a madman."

"You're not weirded out by the fact that it's possible?" Tiberius lifted a brow.

"I've been possessed before. I've had weird things happen. If you say it's possible, I believe you."

"Right. Well, I'm ready to get started when you are."

"Let's get this over with," Sarion sighed. "I promised to babysit the boys in the morning and would like a little sleep beforehand."

Tiberius tied Levianath upright in his chair, binding him a little extra tightly just in case the demon decided to pull anything tricky. Sarion sat in another dining chair and watched as Tiberius prepared his spell, drawing energies from the different orbs and infusing them into the potion. Soon enough, it was ready, and Tiberius brought the potion to Sarion.

"Just a sip will work," he promised, so Sarion, after a moment of steeling himself, took a drink of the liquid.

Tiberius then administered some to the unconscious elf. Sarion looked around after a few seconds passed.

"So when's it gonna kick i-"

His mouth shut as he suddenly felt an odd, weightless sensation trickle through him to his toes and fingertips. His eyes dulled, his nerves became numb, and everything went dark.

When he opened his eyes, he was still in Tiberius's house. Confused, he glanced around for Tiberius, but didn't see him.

"Ty?" he called out a little strangely, abruptly feeling a bit peculiar and on edge.

He looked over at Levianath, whom he'd expected to see tied up, but startled. The man was untied, sitting upright in the dining chair, and staring at Sarion with a blank, direct expression.

Sarion released a sharp breath of surprise, his heart having leapt into his throat, and he tried to even his heartbeat. Levianath cocked his head eerily, staring at him still.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was not Levianath's, even though he looked like him.

"What?"

"I said, what are you doing here?" There was something odd about the man's face, but Sarion couldn't figure out what it was. "You're not allowed here," he'd said in the strange voice. "You must leave now."

Sarion meant to reply, but movement caught his eye, and he glanced at the corner behind Levianath's chair. What he saw shocked him: Levianath, another Levianath, sat there with his hands curled in his hair, head resting against his knees, rocking back and forth slightly. Alarmed, Sarion whipped his eyes back up to who was sitting in the chair.

"What are you?" Sarion found his voice.

"You need to leave," Levianath repeated and stood up slowly, his actions oddly robotic. Sarion's neck prickled in caution.

"I haven't gotten what I came for," Sarion retorted. "And I think what I came for is sitting behind you."

Suddenly, Levianath's face contorted into anger, so angry it became malformed and evil. He became the demon, his skin losing life and eyes nothing more than void, hateful pits. Sarion swallowed hard, remembering what Tiberius had said. In the mind, demons are merely ideas. This thing was only as real as Sarion allowed it to be.

As expected, the demon launched at him, but he dodged it and leapt over to Levianath who was slumped against the wall. The second his hand touched the young man's shoulder, the world around them evaporated, and then reassembled in a dark, smoky part of Stormwind.

Sarion stumbled two steps back, taking in his surroundings. This place felt somewhat surreal, like it wasn't fully put together. It was faded, ethereal, like a memory. Perhaps that was what it was.

A distant voice drew his attention.

"Boss?"

Sarion looked toward the source, only to see a scene, a memory, unfolding before him. Pip'tai the imp was standing in a street about ten feet away from Levianath. Levianath put a hand to his forehead and lifted himself from where he'd been lying face-down on the ground. He groaned slightly and hesitated a moment before standing up, but he stayed a little hunched as he braced his head in his hand, eyes scrunched shut. He looked like he had some sort of killer headache.

"Well, you're alive," the imp concluded. "Which is more than I can say for...them."

Levianath tried to pry his eyes open, and he visibly cringed as they opened. He let out a sharp hiss and found a wall to brace himself, waiting in prolonged silence before trying to open them again. It wasn't even bright at all, just the light of Pip'tai's flames in what was otherwise darkness, but it must've been painful, the way the man was reacting.

Sarion shivered as the memory became more real. The air was chilled, still, and dark, and silence surrounded them all. He couldn't tell where he was other than he could tell it was still Stormwind. He was between two buildings, in what could basically be called a dead end.

Levianath looked lost. "Wh-what happened?" he finally grunted.

"You..." the imp seemed amused, if a little baffled. "You definitely solved the issue of your pesky relatives."

"What?" Levianath finally looked at the imp and startled at what he saw between them, finally lit up by the fel fire. He looked breathless. He saw the faces of his two brothers, though they saw nothing. They were cold, lifeless. Dead. Their eyes stared into the void, and he saw crushing hand marks on their necks. They'd been strangled.

Sarion began to feed into Levianath's thoughts, able to tell what he'd been thinking. Levianath tilted his head to the side, staring at the two bodies. The man knew he should feel something. Joy? Grief? Guilt? But he felt nothing. He just stared at them. After so long of wanting to see this, he'd gotten it, and it really hadn't turned out as great as he'd felt it would. Perhaps the one thing he did feel right now was relief, but even it was fleeting. His brothers were dead now. So what? What did that get him? Did he get his money back? Did he gain from this?

Only thing he gained was a little retribution for their treatment of him over the years, but he could have lived without it.

"Did I do this?" Levianath asked after a moment, surprisingly calm.

His imp nodded. "Hunted them down, dragged them out here, and executed 'em in cold blood. You don't remember?"

"Can't say I do. What happened with the fusing spell?"

"Boss, it's been three days since then," Pip'tai said after a heavy hesitation. "Fusing went well enough, given the...circumstances."

Three days? How did he not remember this? Levianath cleared his throat. "What circumstances?"

"You accidentally summoned a doomguard," Pip'tai said slowly. "You really don't remember?"

"I..." Levianath tried his hardest to recall the missing pieces, but as he did so, he felt something shielding him from it all. He knew he'd fused with the demon. Maybe this was the demon's act of defiance. Levianath fought back harder. To his alarm, as his mind began to attempt to recall the day he'd gone to Jonas's house, it was like a heavy blanket had started to shroud every personal memory he had. He wasn't sure how, but he could sense his memories starting to slip away in chunks. His entire life was slipping through his fingers, leaving him feeling cold and lonely. His memories of Julian, of his friends from the ship, vanished. They were being stolen.

He began to panic. "Pip, something's wrong," he said in a hushed tone. "I can't remember anything. I c-can't-"

One hand whipped to his head as it erupted in pain again, and a cry of agony escaped his mouth. He crumpled to his knees against the hard pavement, his fingers gripping into his hair.

Sarion, reacting to the pain as well, gritted his teeth together hard and tried to distance himself from the memory. For a moment there, he'd felt like _he_ was in Levianath's place, like he was thinking all those things, that he'd been the one in pain. It was disorienting as hell.

"Boss?" Pip for the first time ever sounded actually concerned. "Don't lose control, Boss. I told you, you gotta keep control, or you lose it all. You lose control, you lose yourself."

Pip'tai's words were lost on his Warlock. Levianath remained curled up on his knees, breathing hard and letting out subtle groans of pain here and there as his headache blinded and immobilized him.

Suddenly, the young man quieted, and then, as his breathing evened out, he sat back up. He stared at Pip'tai indifferently, his eyes glowing brighter than ever.

"I have it under control."

"You do?"

"Yes." His voice was monotone. "Nothing to worry about."

The imp stared at him, and Levianath stared back.

"Well," Pip'tai looked shaken. "I'm impressed. So you remember now?"

"I remember nothing," Levianath replied. "I know you are my minion and must do as I say. I know I hold the powers of a mighty demon."

Pip stared at him for a long pause. "So what are you gonna do now?"

Levianath's stare was blank. "Nothing."

Sarion stumbled backward away from the scene, finally having distanced himself enough to where he could think properly and in his own mind. Those people Levianath had killed...they were his brothers. His family. This man was a murderer. Evil. Not worth it, not worth the trouble of bringing him back. Demonic dealings, cold-blooded murder, self-induced possession...these were not the type of things Sarion wanted his loved ones exposed to. Not something he himself wanted exposure to either for that matter.

He should've just had Tiberius use the damned staff instead.

He took another step backward, and abruptly was transported into a sunny day in Stormwind. The world felt different. Older. Something told him that this memory was not modern; it was a decade old, at least. Maybe two.

Standing beside a bridge over the canals, Sarion observed the area. Birds were singing, and the sounds of the city were almost song-like as well.

His eyes fell on an odd sight, one he never would have expected.

A young child, couldn't be past the age of seven at this point, sat on the edge of the canals with a thin stick, poking the thing into the water and swirling it around. Scrawny as could be, he had shoulder-length jet black hair, straight and almost shiny despite how dirty his clothing was. His ears were half-length, pointed and his eyes held no glow, no obvious telling of any magic yet. Sarion knew who this child was, and recognized this as another memory of Levianath's. He wondered what sort of significance it held.

He drew nearer and heard the child's throaty-yet-still-young voice singing in a light tune as he stirred the canal water:

"There was a crooked man and he walked a crooked mile,  
He found a crooked copper upon a crooked stile.  
He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse.  
And they all lived together in a little crooked house."

Sarion kept a distance of about ten feet, watching from the side as he saw the child approached by two boys, the youngest of the pair at least four or five years older than Levianath himself.

The biggest was the first to talk. Sarion guessed this one was in his early teens.

"Who let Pointy out of the basement?" the older boy said loudly enough that Levianath visibly cringed at the sound of his voice, but he didn't turn to look back.

"Go away, Jonas," Levianath muttered, tightening his hands around the twig he held and staring into the murky water.

The older boy, Jonas, reached out and shoved Levianath hard by the shoulder. "How 'bout you make me."

Nothing more than an observer, Sarion inhaled sharply at the physical violence, his stare darkening. This wasn't real; it was in Levianath's head, but that didn't make Sarion any less upset at seeing it.

"Don't push me." The young half-elf finally whipped his stare up to Jonas from where he was sitting. "I said, go _away_."

The offender, Jonas, cocked his head and rolled his eyes with the younger boy beside him. "Go away," he imitated Levianath mockingly, and in a higher pitch.

The younger human snickered. Jonas pushed Levianath a little harder, almost hard enough to send him into the water, and Sarion took a hard step forward in response. He kept trying to remind himself that this wasn't real, but it was so vivid he couldn't much help it.

Levianath whipped his torso around at the boy's assault, his expression stressed and upset, and Sarion caught the color of the boy's eyes as they glinted in the sun: they were a pale, reflective silvery grey, not glowing with fel energy yet. Still innocent, undeserving.

"What do you want?" Levianath's voice raised a few degrees, gripping the twig in one hand almost as if about to wield it. "Leave me alone. I didn't do anything to you."

Again, the boys mocked his tone, closing in on him.

_Run away,_ Sarion, observing, urged in his mind. _Just run, damn it._

Levianath didn't run, but he did finally stand up. He was tall for how young he clearly was, but didn't have a chance against the two humans. Even so, he held the stick in one hand and stood up straight, glaring. "Go away," he repeated himself for the third time.

"No, _you_ go away," the younger human retorted. "Everybody hates you, Levianath. We don't want you. You're useless and ugly and a waste of space."

"Shut _up_, Malcolm." Sarion could see that the stick in Levianath's hand was quivering as he addressed the younger human boy.

"You can't scare us," Jonas snorted, and he grabbed Levianath by his ear and threw him hard against the stone street. Levianath's elbows crunched against the ground, but he stood back up quickly, nursing one arm.

Without allowing him to recover, the other boy, Malcolm, reached out and shoved Levianath so hard he stumbled backward and caught his foot on the edge of the canal. Sarion's heart leapt into his throat as he watched the boy topple into the water, and the two humans leaned over the edge. As Levianath, sputtering, tried to pull himself back up with one injured arm, Jonas reached down and shoved the boy back under the surface, then held him there and began to laugh.

Sarion felt himself go numb, and he let out a shout and tried to intervene, but it all was nothing more than a memory, an image. His hand swept right through the human boy's shoulder, and his shout fell on deaf ears. These children, terrifyingly cruel, were drowning a painstakingly-young boy who had done nothing to provoke this treatment.

Finally, a patrolling guard saw what was happening and jumped to investigate, and after only a second of observation, she reached out and yanked Jonas away from the edge of the canal. Sarion backed up a few steps, invisible to them all.

"What are you _doing_?" the woman snapped while still holding Jonas's shirt, and she looked down in the water, her helmet shielding her expression. She let out a cry of surprise and immediately bent down, scooped Levianath out of the water, and brought him out onto the stone pavement, where he lay on his back with a pool of water forming around him. Levianath, absolutely sopping wet, sputtered and gagged on water that'd forced its way into his lungs. After a tense moment he finally let out a gurgling, pitiful cry as the water expelled from his throat. He gasped a deep, wheezing breath while the guard hovered over him.

She turned her face toward the two offending boys, and her voice was serious and commanding. "This is your _only_ warning. Go home, _NOW."_

The boys tucked tail and ran back through the streets, leaving the guard with Levianath. She hesitated a moment and then pulled her helmet off, setting it beside her knees as she knelt by the half-drowned boy. The look on her face was of clear worry, as well as confusion. Levianath, still sputtering and gasping, rolled over to his side and retched a few times, then curled up into what was basically the fetal position right there in the street. He didn't cry, but he'd scrunched his eyes shut and was shaking violently.

The guard straightened up and gathered the attention of two more guards on a nearby bridge, who jogged over to her.

"What happened?" one asked, his voice mild but somehow strong.

"He nearly drowned. Some older children were…attacking him."

"Does he need a healer?"

"Yes," she nodded quickly, but when the man reached out to scoop up the soaked boy, young Levianath opened his eyes and sucked in a sharp, probably painful breath. He sat up and scooted back quickly, eyes wide, and desperately tried to clear his throat to talk. When he did talk, his voice was hoarse, and it hurt Sarion just to hear it.

"I'm okay," Levianath coughed, the sound almost a wheeze. "I need t'go home."

He sounded so painfully innocent in that moment, and Sarion, along with the three guards, just stared at him, expressions and stances mollifying. The female guard stayed kneeling beside him, but she sat back on her feet.

"Are you sure?" she asked softly.

He nodded, dripping, and stood up. He was shivering, teeth chattering violently. The woman reached to the collar of her silver plate armor and un-clipped an over-the-shoulder cloak, and she wrapped it around the boy. It was light enough fabric that it doubled as a thin blanket.

"Do you know the boys who did this to you?"

Levianath's eyes darted to the side, and his brows dropped. "Yes."

"Do you need me to walk you home in case they find you again?"

He shook his head, an action that dragged his small shoulders along with it. "No."

"Are you sure? I'd like to make sure you get home safely."

"It doesn't matter." He pulled the cloak from his shoulders and handed it back to her, rubbing his arms with his palms to warm them up.

"Why?" she tilted her head slightly.

The boy sniffed, shoulders slumped. "They're my brothers."

The woman's mouth fell open slightly, and her eyes widened in sympathy. Sarion felt his heart constrict, but suddenly the memory began to vaporize and fade away.

The memories began to play in accelerated time, one after the other, each one adding more pain and more anger into Sarion's heart than the previous. Sarion got a first-hand account of Levianath's memories of his brothers, Malcolm and Jonas, as well as the same treatment from his two sisters. Sarion knew Levianath didn't deserve this treatment; it had started from the moment the boy was born.

The memories swept through Levianath's teen years to when he met a woman and fell in love with her, married her, and then when she left him. Levianath was heartbroken after being kicked out of his own home, and still his brothers sought him out regularly, threatened him, and beat him to near death time after time.

It all seemed like a cruel joke. Levianath's entire life did. Sarion had never felt such a combination of hatred and heartbreak when he witnessed firsthand the way Levianath's siblings had relished in his pain. How in the world could anyone hate someone else so strongly? Even Sarion, as much as he'd claimed to hate Levianath, had never dreamed of doing something _this_ terrible to anyone, and especially not so long-term. He almost wished many times that they'd put Levianath out of his misery, but Levianath held such a strong will to survive that he never let it ruin him. He refused to die or to fall apart. Instead, he became hardened and angry, untrusting and hateful.

Sarion for the first time could not only see _why_ Levianath was the way he was, but even he himself had begun to feel those things as well. He _hated_ Levianath's family. Hated them. And instead of judging the Warlock for what he'd done, for killing those people, Sarion felt only a sense of comfort in knowing they were gone.

Finally Sarion witnessed the night Levianath had been beaten unconscious by Jonas and his cronies outside a pub, simply for defending a woman from Malcolm. The sheer brutal viciousness in those men's actions showed they were psychotic, that they couldn't be helped. He saw how Jonas attacked Levianath with a ruthless kick to the head, and Levianath fell limp. Some time was lost, and then he saw Pip'tai teleport Levianath into the orchard. He saw Julian find him, heal him, and bring him to the tree.

Sarion saw the way he had reacted to Levianath then, and he felt guilt rip at him. In that moment he saw himself the same way he saw Levianath's brothers. Hateful, judgmental, even vicious. The way he'd demanded Levianath be thrown out of the orchard, the way he'd given the man nothing but anger since then...

And what made it worse was that Levianath was unfazed by it, that he was used to that sort of reaction.

Sarion swallowed hard, the various emotions in his chest threatening to drag him under. He felt horrible.

Suddenly he found himself sitting up abruptly, eyes opening, and he gasped a sharp breath. He was back in his friend's living room, in real time.

Tiberius was there in an instant.

"Whoa, man, that was fast. Like, fifteen seconds, fast. What happened?"

Sarion, still breathing heavily, looked over at Levianath tied to the chair. The man was still out, and Sarion swallowed hard.

"That was all only fifteen seconds?"

"Thirty, tops."

After a moment of consideration, Sarion shook his head. He still felt a little weak and shaken up. "We're getting that demon out."

"Do you think he is redeemable? Did you speak to him?"

"He definitely chose to use the demon, but..." Sarion trailed off, his eyes gaining an intense look. "But he...I can see why he did."

"Did you manage to have him expel it?"

"No, but I know what I need to do, now. Put me back."

Tiberius took the vial of potion and administered it to both of them.

Sarion found himself standing in the same room again, facing Levianath, who watched him warily. "What's going on?"

Levianath's voice was that of his own, not the demon's. Sarion relaxed.

"That demon you fused with? Bad idea. You need to expel it."

"No," Levianath shook his head. "I can't go back. I can't go back to being powerless."

"Levianath, they're dead," Sarion said in a somewhat softer tone.

At the sound of his name, Levianath lifted his stare to Sarion. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"

"I'm Sarion, a friend of Julian's. We've...met before, although I must apologize that I was not exactly polite."

Levianath gained a look of recognition. "What's going on?"

Sarion explained it all to him, explained everything, but he left out the parts about seeing all of Levianath's memories. He felt that would seem too invasive and didn't want to alarm the man.

"You have to be the one to banish the demon," Sarion explained. "It's up to you, Levianath."

Levianath, absorbing everything he'd just been told, sat down in the seat by the table. "I killed my brothers."

"And good riddance," Sarion murmured.

Levianath's solemn green eyes flicked to Sarion. "You do not think it wrong of me?"

"To take another person's life is one thing. But to rid the world of horrible people is another. You did it to save yourself."

"They weren't attacking me when I did it. I...ambushed them. They didn't have a chance. I cheated."

"I didn't mean 'save yourself' in the physical sense," Sarion replied quietly, and Levianath's eyes gained a hint of sorrow.

"I've ruined everything, haven't I?"

"Nothing that can't be reversed," Sarion assured the man, and he sat down across from Levianath, gazing at him intently. "Expel the demon. That's your first step to redemption."

Levianath frowned. "Can I ask one thing of you?"

"What's that?"

"Kill the demon? Just wake up, and kill it."

"That would mean killing you," Sarion said hesitantly.

Levianath's eyes dropped knowingly, and Sarion released a breath of frustration.

"Levianath, let me tell you something. I'm in your head right now, which means I know your inner thoughts, your deepest secrets."

Levianath bristled at this, but Sarion shook his head and kept going.

"As much as you seem to hate yourself, along with just about everyone else, I can see clearly that you are a _good_ man. I've seen the anger in your heart, and I understand. I _understand_, Levianath. You are angry, and you are hurt. But I can see past the walls you've put up, the way you treat others like they're all just like Malcolm and Jonas. You, in the deepest parts of yourself, care so much about other people. And I want to see that brought to the surface."

Levianath's brows dipped low as he genuinely thought on Sarion's words.

Sarion continued, altering his topic. "I know you and Julian are friends. I know the two of you have been through a lot together, and I know that Julian, the way he is, will not stay in Stormwind to live a quiet life. He hasn't said it yet, and I doubt he even realizes it for himself, but he's going to leave, soon." He smirked at his next thought. "Now, can you imagine the type of trouble that young man is going to get himself into without someone there to monitor him?"

Levianath let a small twinkle of amusement cross his features.

Sarion continued, "You and I both know that he would not be here today without your help and guidance. So can I ask _you_ for one thing?"

The half-elf watched Sarion ambiguously.

Sarion smiled. "Julian needs a keeper. Watch out for him, keep him out of trouble, and protect him. If nothing else, just be his friend. He needs you, and I know you need him, too. And...maybe," he added, "make sure that Reece kid doesn't break his heart."

Sarion noticed that with his words, Levianath had sat up a little straighter, seeming to have pulled himself out of that momentary funk. Levianath offered a single nod.

"I...I will."

"I know I can trust you," Sarion said firmly as he stood from his seat, and Levianath stood as well. Sarion shook the young man's hand reassuringly. "You can do this, Levianath. Now the one thing I'm leaving up to you is to expel that demon."

"Right," Levianath nodded, becoming more energized. He let out a sharp breath. "I've got this."

Sarion smiled, and he willed himself to wake up again. A few moments passed, and suddenly he sat up in his seat, returning to his physical body.

He looked over at Levianath, who was still tied to his chair.

"Untie him," he requested, and Tiberius unquestioningly did as Sarion had said, with Sarion helping. They tossed the ropes to the side, and just in time. Levianath jolted awake, standing up straight.

"I don't have a lot of time," the Warlock announced hurriedly, and before Tiberius or Sarion could reply, the man had begun to draw out the fel energy from himself in a torrent, forming a churning, growing orb in the air between his hands. Inside the churning ball of purple and green energy, Sarion caught sight of what looked like the demon itself trapped inside, becoming more and more visible.

At the point of where Sarion feared the orb might burst open and release the creature, Levianath suddenly let the thing fall to the floor, and a half second later, he crunched it under his boot. The magic shattered, scattered, and was whisked into the void.

Levianath let out a breath and, after a moment of attempted recovery, stumbled back and sat down in the dining chair.

"Is that it?" Sarion's brows tightened.

"What do you mean 'is that it?'" Levianath laughed back, his voice oddly free.

"That's all you had to do?"

"Well, I had to fight him in my head, first, and _that_ is something I never want to experience again."

Sarion's brows lifted, and Tiberius spoke up.

"How are you feeling now?"

Levianath looked at Tiberius oddly, clearly wondering who this guy was, but then sent Sarion a look only he understood. "Hopeful."

Sarion smiled, and Levianath stood back up now that he'd regained his bearings.

"Thanks for your help," the half-elf said.

Tiberius and Sarion both nodded, and Sarion was about to make for the door, but a male voice from the hallway sounded out, drawing their attention back into the house.

"Ty, five minutes or I'm starting without you," a slender, lean human man appeared wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, his dark, long hair dripping wet. His voice was like liquid and held a calm, soothing effect, despite his choice of words. When his eyes fell upon Sarion and Levianath, they widened slightly. Sarion stared back at the guy in subtle confusion, and the man in question gained a look of amusement as he slyly turned his gaze to Tiberius.

"Wow, you really have a type, don't you?" he laughed calmly, approaching Levianath and giving the half-elf an obvious raking eye, and Tiberius suddenly spoke up.

"Oh! Uh, Gabe, these aren't-"

The man, apparently Gabe, cut Tiberius's words off with some of his own. "Well, happy birthday to me!" he exclaimed in a pleased tone, and suddenly to everyone's surprise, wrapped one hand behind Levianath's head and kissed him square on the mouth.

"GABE!" Tiberius nearly squeaked in what was normally a deep voice, and he jumped to intervene. "Bad idea!"

Levianath at first was clearly stunned at the unknown man's invasion of his personal space, and his arms tensed in surprise for a moment before he ultimately appeared to just hopelessly accept his fate. Sarion knew that had Levianath had more energy, he probably would have done something about this, but instead he just stood there, waiting for Gabe to release him. For a moment, Sarion almost thought that Levianath had begun to reciprocate, but he couldn't be entirely sure.

Tiberius practically had to pry the man off. "Gabe, _wrong guys_!" the Priest exclaimed, tugging the other human away.

Sarion, now, was torn between laughing himself to tears and dying of embarrassment for poor Gabe, who looked mortified at his mistake.

"Oh dear, I am so sorry!" Gabe breathed, and Levianath, still a little dazed, began to laugh and make his way for the door, beckoning Sarion to come with him.

"Quite alright," Levianath smirked still as he opened the door, and Sarion waved goodbye to Tiberius and Gabe as he exited swiftly, if nothing else to escape the room.

Still tickled, he glanced over at Levianath as the two both wordlessly agreed to walk back to the orchard through the nighttime city. After having experienced Levianath's memories, Sarion felt like he knew the man as his own brother.

"You...handled that very calmly," Sarion chortled.

Levianath let out a quiet chuckle of his own. "Well, the poor guy seemed so happy, I hated to rain on his parade."

Sarion smirked and the two kept walking, and after a few quiet beats, he heard Levianath murmur mostly to himself:

"Guy kisses better than most girls."

Sarion's laughter echoed through the streets.


	17. Solace

**This chapter, man. It's so fluffy. Can't handle the fluff. SO FLUFFEH.**

**Anyways, yours truly is back to class again, so the chapter updates may either increase or decrease in frequency, depending on my work load... I guess we'll see. :) I'm finishing up this chapter in the hour I have between my Renaissance-History and Italian classes so obviously I'll at least still have time to write _sometimes_. Heh.**

**Song suggestion: The Imitation Game Soundtrack - Running. It's such a pretty score, unobtrusive and relaxed so you can read/write while you listen. Only downside is that it's short.**

**Review Responses:**

**Nyteknight: Mwhaha, I can make that happen!**

**Jysshio: Noooo! Don't miss your ride! And yes to all of that! Especially Levianath's power level over 9000. It's gonna be awesome. **

**Ophianara Blade: Definitely complete turn of events. :P Poor Lily is going to get the blunt of all of this.**

**Chelinka: Well hello! And man, I forget to review half the stuff I read... I feel ya. :S And hahaha, definitely a random side-plot thrown in there huh xD**

**Kintaraheart: Yes! Sarion saves the day! I lurve him. :D**

**Zarabethe: LOL, I had to read those aloud to my sis because she saw me laughing. And oh gosh, the fight scene, yes, it's gonna be...uhh...a lot happening at once. :x I can't spoil. I CANNOT SPOIL IT. *zips mouth shut***

**Suneeku: Nah, we haven't seen Gabe yet! He'll show up in Chance, once I return to that story. :) And...Ty very well may be. Bwahaha.**

**LadyRaftina: You're certainly correct there about Duncan. He likes possessing pretty, shiny things. Or in Lily's case, a pretty, shiny elf. And hah! Wraith is such fun to write, because he talks so much. Also once I get outta class this evening I'll be able to check PM. I see you there, little parentheses number.**

* * *

**Anywho, thanks everyone for reading and supporting!**

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

Night came early on the precipice of the season's change, but neither Reece nor Julian felt like sleeping. As per norm, Julian worried about Levianath, and Reece, being who she was, had honed in on what it was Julian was feeling and felt it as well. Not only that, but ever since Levianath had been toted away, she'd been unnaturally quiet. Julian hadn't heard more than ten words out of her since then, and it'd been nearly three whole hours.

She was quiet, somewhat straight-faced, and distant, though he wasn't sure whether that was just his own negative mood rubbing off on her, or maybe he was reading her wrong. On the other hand, it was possible there really was something wrong, in which case he felt a desperate need to help, whatever it was. Needless to say, Reece was not herself.

He'd been relaxing in a guest room, seeing as he'd given Reece his own, but after an extensive time sitting with only his own thoughts as company, he headed back up the ramp to find her.

Easing the large door open, he saw that she'd put the lights out and had curled up on the edge of the bed, but she was still wide awake. When he'd shown his face in the doorway, she lifted her head and then sat up, his cue to come in. He closed the door behind himself and pulled up a chair across from her spot on the edge of the bed, and sat down in it, watching her with his golden eyes.

"You're quiet," he commented in a calm tone.

She seemingly forced a slight smile and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her shins and resting her chin on one knee.

"Yeah." She sounded apologetic.

"Copper for your thoughts," he coaxed.

She chewed her lips, looking hesitant, and he scooted his chair a little closer and then reached out and took her hands in his own. Hers were callused and rough, whereas his own, despite his time spent working in the camps, were quite smoother. However her touch was warm as always, and his mood elevated at simply being in contact with her.

Her deep brown eyes rose to his when he did this, and she finally smiled a little, letting her legs fall back down to rest over the edge of the bed.

"I should've known that Levianath would've reacted the way he did. Light and shadow magics don't blend well."

Julian tilted his head, then had to toss his hair to the side when it fell in his eyes. "That's not really the first thing a person thinks of when their friend has lost his memory, though," he murmured. "Why is it a problem?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. I kind of feel bad. I touched his arm, and I'm guessing the magic hurt him or something."

"Reece..." Julian said after a hefty pause. "You couldn't have predicted that, and I am entirely sure you did not hurt him. It was the demon defending itself; they hate the Light. It literally burns them. Levianath is fine."

The kid shrugged her shoulders halfheartedly, smirking a little probably only for his sake. "Yeah."

"If anything, _he_ should feel bad," Julian squeezed her hand. "Nobody yells at Reece Black; it's just not right. Demon or no."

She giggled slightly, and he smiled at the sound, braiding his fingers into hers absently, observing the stark contrast between the rough, freckled, sun-bronzed tone of her skin and his own pale complexion.

After a comfortable silence, Reece finally spoke again.

"It's just that I know what it's like to be at the receiving end of unwanted magic, to have it shoved at me. And I donno, something about the way he cringed away from me hit me wrong. It kinda shook me, is all. For a second it made me feel like the bad guy, and..." she trailed off, seemingly finished speaking.

Julian's brows curved up sympathetically, but he didn't say anything, just glided his thumbs along her knuckles thoughtfully.

He wasn't the type of person to feel anger over trivial things. He'd seen how foolish people looked when they got mad, when they lashed out or threw things or yelled. It was something he'd never wanted to embody, and he was the best of everyone he knew at keeping a calm, cool head as far as anger went.

And although he wasn't angry now, but he did feel something spark at the back of his mind, a gnawing pang of frustration. Reece had some sort of terrible past that he'd been doing his best not to unearth, something he had hoped to somehow shield her from by doing everything in his power to keep her as happy as he could (which wasn't very difficult). But then Levianath had gone and snapped at her, a split-second action, and it'd shaken her so badly she wasn't acting herself anymore.

One could say he was starting to feel annoyed, even though he knew the blame didn't fall on one single person. It _was_ Levianath's fault, this whole situation, but there had to be other factors. Lev had done that stupid spell with the demon and messed up his brain. He'd left Julian in the dark, forsaken him as his friend, gone against his promises to start a better life, and Julian couldn't begin to fathom _why_.

Now that Julian thought about it, maybe he _was_ a little angry. Maybe he _was_ mad at Levianath, and maybe he was justified in it, too. The man had made a lot of freaking stupid, selfish choices, and although Julian was definitely geared for forgiveness, he was both immensely disappointed and upset.

Swallowing down the negative feelings, he left his seat in order to take his place beside Reece, and he smiled when she wrapped herself up close to him, resting her forehead against his chin.

"Reece," he said calmly. "You are the most genuine, caring person I have ever known, and that, above everything, is why I adore you. I know that you put everyone before yourself. You could never be 'the bad guy', even if you tried. Honestly, I think it'd be pretty freakin' hilarious to watch."

He saw her smile, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering there before drawing back and facing her fully, gaining a mischievous, closed smile.

"Remember last time we were sitting here?"

Reece's cheeks dimpled, and she wiped her nose with the back of her wrist habitually, eyes falling anywhere but on his own.

Julian smiled a little wider. "I don't mean to overstep my bounds, but if it's okay with you, I'd really, really love to try it again. This time when I'm not crying."

"Try what, kissing me?" she chuckled positively.

"Mmhm. That a yes?" he tilted his head a little.

She bit her smile, finally catching his gaze with her twinkling eyes, and gave him a subtle, tiny nod. He let his mouth widen to a grin, and although his heart had suddenly started to pound in his chest in anxiety, he made his move. He tentatively let his hands cup the sides of her face, her skin soft under his fingers, and after drawing his courage, tilted forward and gently pressed his lips to hers, their eyes falling shut.

Julian had never _really_ kissed a girl before. He'd kissed girls, but it'd never been like _this_. He'd never had butterflies in his stomach beforehand and never felt so weak as a result of it either. He'd never kissed someone he was in love with, because, well, he'd never been in love until now. Part of him wondered if this was just puppy love, or if it was the real thing. It surely felt real, and from the depths of his heart he knew that he would never, ever love anyone like he loved this girl. They'd been together every single day for months on end, which for many people could mean growing tired of one another, yet each day had given him just more reasons to adore her. Every weird quirk, funny laugh, and goofy saying of hers just made him fall deeper, and he knew he couldn't escape it. He didn't want to.

Reece's arms looped up over his shoulders, and he drew her in, the two of them synchronizing as their kiss deepened. Even though she had kissed him last night, it'd been brief, and he had been so stunned he hadn't been able to take the time to savor the moment. Now, he was memorizing every thought and feeling by the second.

Eventually he broke away, letting his eyes slowly open, remaining in close proximity to her and giving her his trademark smile, a mixture between mischief and amusement, although he was pretty sure his sappy affection was seeping into his expression. The rich chocolate pools of her eyes held such a sweet smile that he felt his heart dance.

Reece, he thought to himself, was beautiful. The most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life. Not in the traditional way; she wasn't what he'd expected to ever call beautiful, nor did she really possess any definitive qualities that shouted 'gorgeous.' She looked like a scrawny boy, for goodness' sake. But everything about her, from the genuine joy in her smile to the pure, sweet generosity in her eyes, was absolutely stunning to him, and the longer he stared at her, the more overwhelmed he became.

"Reece?" he finally said, his voice quieter than he'd thought it'd be. She'd literally stolen his breath.

"Yeah?" she was giving him a big 'Reece' smile.

He hesitated a second, tentatively letting his mouth open to speak, trying to force it to work. "I-" he paused. "I'm in lov-"

A loud, abrupt knock came at the door and interrupted him, and before either of them could really react, it swung open. Reece was the first to pull away, scooting back about a foot as Julian let out a breath and peered in the doorway, a little shaken at the intrusion of privacy. Sarion stood in the door, as well as someone else behind him, but Julian couldn't put a face to the body yet since Sarion was indeed a fairly sizable guy. Julian noted that something looked different about Sarion, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. However, what Julian did know was that if Sarion was back, he had news of Levianath, and so he stood abruptly in anticipation.

Sarion's voice was packed with humor when he spoke. "Now I feel like the odd one out; everyone here but me has kissed another man."

Julian snorted, but his mind was focused on something else, and he stepped forward as Reece stood up beside him as well. "How's Levianath?"

"See for yourself," Sarion turned his shoulder and revealed Levianath himself, reaching back and pulling the half-elf into the room. He clapped his hands on Levianath's shoulders. "I'm sure you all have a lot to talk about. Excuse me while I go find my girlfriend." Sarion disappeared out the door, and Julian stared at Levianath, momentarily speechless.

"H-how are you?" Julian sputtered, shocked at suddenly seeing the man standing there in front of him, seemingly perfectly back to normal.

"I'm doing well," Levianath replied calmly. "Had a hell of a week, though." He hesitated. "Are you two...alright?"

Suddenly, Reece pushed past Julian and threw her arms around Levianath in a generous hug, and the man made an actual sound of sympathy and hugged her back. Already, Julian looked at the man like he'd grown an extra head. Levianath was acting like a...normal person. More normal than Levianath ever was.

Julian's brows tightened a little, but he did offer a big smile. "So is everything, ya know, taken care of, then? No more…demon?"

"No more demon," Levianath reassured. Something about the way the man spoke even seemed different. Julian couldn't place it. It was like Levianath was speaking with emotion, not with some sort of barrier in his words or, on the other hand, anger. It was odd, and Julian didn't understand. The man almost seemed _happy._ Unguarded, even relaxed.

Julian knew he should be happy right now. He should be right over there giving the guy a hug, too, but something kept him holding back, and as hard as he tried to let go of the chip on his shoulder, he couldn't. He couldn't just throw forgiveness at the guy just because he was feeling better. It ran a little deeper than that.

Reece finally let the half-elf go, and he chuckled and ruffled her hair playfully before looking at Julian with a hint of hesitation in his eyes. Clearly he knew something was off here.

Reece glanced between the two silent men for a moment before blinking a few times and stepping back a step. "So uh," she smirked, "I'll be downstairs."

Julian's eyes widened. He didn't want to be alone with Levianath right now; that would mean facing his feelings, and he didn't want to do that. "Wait!" he blurted for Reece, "you don't have to...go..." He trailed off as she disappeared into the hall, leaving the two in a deafening silence.

Julian sniffed, shoving his hands in his pockets, and suddenly became very interested in tracing the wooden designs on the floor with his toes.

"Julian, are you alright?"

He startled a little at Levianath's voice, even though the two were standing three feet away from one another. Julian swallowed hard and forced a smile.

"Yeah, man, it's fine. It's all fine. You're fine, I'm fine, it's..." he bit his tongue. If he said the word 'fine', one more time...

Levianath cocked his head to the side. "It's not fine. And you clearly are not, either. You're upset with me."

Julian sucked in a breath. "Well, yeah. So? I'll get over it."

"Just talk to me?" Levianath coaxed, yet another thing to throw Julian through a loop. Levianath _never_ used those words in one sentence, together. He _hated_ talking, and Julian was always the one to keep their conversations alive. And most of all, Levianath hated talking about feelings. What had Sarion done to the guy?

Julian eyed the man sideways. "Who are you, and what have you done with Levianath?"

Levianath let out a humored chuckle. "I'm trying this new thing called communication. I hear it's really effective."

Julian wrung the back of his neck sorely, letting his head fall back in exasperation before he finally let out a heavy sigh. He hated being negative, hated confronting other people, hated complaining. So this was going to be hard for him.

"Yes, I am upset with you," he finally said. "I am disappointed, let-down, and..." he hesitated, swallowing hard. "When you snapped at Reece, she somehow managed to convince herself she was a monster, that she'd hurt you. I don't even know what all she's dealt with in her past, but you sure didn't help her at all. And I just feel so betrayed that you, my closest friend, would not only lie to me but go off and do something reckless and so self-destructive like that thing you did with the demons."

Levianath looked a little confused. "Why would that...upset you? Not about Reece and the lying, I understand that, but..."

A pause, and then Julian gritted his teeth. "Because I _care_ about you, you idiot! I care that you are okay, that you and everyone else I love are safe and happy. So when you just throw yourself into these situations and almost get yourself killed, or brainwashed, and I'm left behind to feel the pain of it all, it really stings. So yeah, Levianath, I'm pretty pissed. I just wish you would for once think about how your actions affect other people."

Levianath, rather than getting defensive as he should, let his eyes drop to his feet.

Julian's shoulders drooped, and he just stared at the man incredulously. "Aren't you going to snap at me? Insult me? What's going on with you, Levianath?"

Levianath's brows tightened, his expression becoming pained, and he looked back up at Julian. "I'm so sorry for everything. I hate that I did what I did. You're all I have, and I'll do anything, whatever it takes, to have you forgive me. I've done terrible things this week that I can't take back."

Julian's anger ebbed. "What are you talking about?"

"I killed some people, Julian. I gave up everything just for the chance to get back at my brothers, and then...I got back at them for good." Levianath's tone and expression tore at Julian's heart.

"Really?" Julian asked in almost a whisper, reluctant.

"I have no money, I have no family or friends, and I have no place to go. I know I deserted you, and I have no idea what to say other than I am so sorry. I messed up, Julian, with the demon, with everything. I don't deserve your friendship, but still I'm begging you for it. I promise, I'm going to change. I just need your help."

Julian swallowed back a lump in his throat. Levianath was exposing his heart like an open wound, suddenly so vulnerable and imperfect, and now, instead of seeing the man as some sort of legendary enigma, as someone he could idolize and place on a pedestal above himself, Julian saw this man as his equal. Levianath was just another person. Just another very broken, hurting person, with real feelings and real insecurities just like everyone else.

At Levianath's words, Julian did the only sane thing he could think to do. He stepped in and wrapped his arms tightly around the Warlock, drawing the defeated man into a warm hug.

"Lev, I will always, _always_, be your friend," Julian promised, and Levianath hugged him back now with a hint of desperation, like he had genuinely feared Julian would kick him out. Julian tightened his arms. "No matter what. I promise."

"You don't realize how much I want to be like you," Levianath confessed as he finally pulled away, and Julian's brows turned up in surprise.

Levianath continued, his expression somewhat harsh and still pained, and he moved his hands expressively with his words. It was weird seeing Levianath so...emotional. "I hate being the way I am. I want to...I want to be able to feel joy without feeling suspicious of it. I want to be able to hold a conversation with someone without manipulating them. I wish I was like you."

"Levianath," Julian said a little incredulously and with a single laugh in his voice as he braced his hands on the man's shoulders reassuringly. "That's kind of funny, because you don't realize how much I want to be like _you_."

Levianath offered him an ambivalent look, and Julian clarified.

"There are times when I wish I could be straightforward and even kind of harsh, that I could say exactly what is on my mind without worrying whether it might create some sort of conflict. I know for a fact that I can go overboard with the people-pleaser thing. I become what other people need me to be, and it's exhausting, but you are so self-assured about everything, and you always seem in charge. You can say no, and people don't judge you for it, and I think that's awesome. They just accept that that's how you are, but me?" He shook his head, and spoke again. "Of course, I'm not complaining about being _nice_, nor do I dislike helping anyone, but sometimes I do wish I could just be the me that I want, not that others need." A smile spread across his lips thoughtfully as he then spoke mostly to himself. "Maybe that's why I love Reece so much, because the only thing she needs me to be is whatever I am in the moment."

A heavy pause.

"You think I'm self-assured?" Levianath let out a genuine chuckle, which conflicted with his expression.

"Self-assured, confident, intelligent, kinda judgmental..." Julian nodded. "And very intimidating. As opposed to _me;_ I'm about as intimidating as a freaking puppy."

Levianath snorted at this. "Even puppies have teeth. Don't underestimate those creatures."

"Anyways," Julian replied in subtle laughter. "What I'm meaning to say is that it's _okay._ I understand where you're coming from, and I'm the same way. I'll admit, I'm a little in shock at the sheer number of words that've come out of your mouth in the past few minutes, but truly, it's going to be okay."

Levianath finally caught a grip, took a deep breath, and gathered his thoughts, but he didn't choose to speak them aloud.

Julian sighed deeply, plopping backward onto the bed in a heap. "Man, I'm so glad you're back and that I don't stay mad at people for long," he murmured half to himself. He caught a hint of a smile on Levianath's face, and he sat there a while, thinking for a moment before suddenly an odd thought hit him.

"Lev, what did Sarion mean earlier? The whole "I'm the only one here who hasn't kissed a guy" thing?"

Levianath's brows shot up, and he actually appeared infinitesimally flustered for a tiny second before he laughed. "That's a story for another time, kid."

"Aw, come on!" Julian laughed, returning to his teasing self. "Who'd you kiss?"

"Can we go back to the whole angsty thing we had going a minute ago?" he chuckled back.

Julian let out a hearty laugh and stood back up, stretching his long arms toward the ceiling therapeutically as he yawned widely. "Well," he cracked his knuckles. "Are you hungry? Best thing to do in a situation like this is to stuff our faces."

"Starving, is more like it."

The two young men, now feeling much better, headed downstairs to find food.

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

The next morning, Levianath had awoken feeling incredibly refreshed. The night before, he'd told Julian of everything that happened, what with his brothers, the demons, everything, and he had to admit, talking about it had helped _so_ much. He'd never just sat down with someone like that and laid everything out in the open. It was too much of a risk to do so, and he'd always avoided it. But this was Julian, and after everything they'd experienced together, he trusted him with his life.

Additionally, to add to his elated mood, Levianath felt stronger than ever before. The reason for this was because last night, upon banishing the demon, he'd kept the creature's power. He'd drained it of everything it had, and kept its energy for himself. Essentially, he possessed everything he'd intended on having in merging with the demon, sans the demon. He now had the power of a doomguard at his fingertips, and combining that with the fact that his brothers were gone forever, he was feeling pretty secure.

With that security came comfort, and with that comfort came happiness.

Currently, Julian and Reece were playing with Julian's baby brother on the main floor, while Levianath sat in a nearby seat with a book he'd taken from the many shelves by the sitting area. The book in his hands was a century-old novella called _The Old Gnome and the Sea_, but as much as he tried to pay attention to it, Reece and Julian kept stealing his attention whenever they talked. To be honest, though, they were more entertaining than the text in his hands.

The pair were sitting on a rug on the floor. Reece had wispy-haired Finnian in her lap, and she and Julian were attempting to see how many words the baby knew. He certainly knew his own name, and sometimes he'd clearly repeat something one of them had said, but when they tried it again, he acted oblivious.

Reece, grinning, ran her fingers over the baby's hair as he sat there on the floor. "I want, like, a billion kids," she announced, which immediately piqued Levianath's interest.

"I know, right?" Julian enthused, reaching a hand out to keep the baby from toppling onto his side. "They're like little copies of yourself, but shorter and more fun."

"That's one way of putting it," Reece snorted. "Add to that the downside of maintenance, and they're still worth it."

Unbeknownst to the two of them, Levianath had flicked his eyes up to them, watching them both from under his brows as he kept his face turned toward his book. He wondered if either of them really understood the depth behind what they were talking about.

"Well for one thing, I'd definitely have to have enough kids so that I could buy my own ship and use them as my crew," Reece chortled, and Julian began to laugh heavily, the sounds of their laughter mingling together.

She spoke again once she caught a breath, "I'll be the fierce, fearsome 'Captain Mother', and you will be 'First Mate Father', and our kids can have names like 'Salty,' 'Sea-legs,' and 'Swab' just to keep with the pirate theme."

"You're gonna name our child _Swab?"_ Julian nearly fell over in laughter.

Levianath's suspicions were completed with their words. Even jokingly, they were still talking about this. As far as he knew, that wasn't exactly the most normal early-relationship discussion material, and he found it wildly entertaining and a little endearing that they were envisioning their lives reaching the point of raising children together.

He continued to watch the two of them with a calculating, humored stare. "You know," he commented slyly once the two had calmed, "for someone attempting to keep her identity hidden, you're sure not trying very hard, 'Captain Mother.'"

Reece just sent him a playful grin. "No one else is down here."

"There are always ears," he retorted glibly.

As if on cue, they all then heard Nyela's voice as well as a couple pairs of footsteps descending the ramp.

"Even so, grey hair isn't normal, Sarion, especially this abruptly," Nyela's tone was somewhat concerned, but mostly just conversational. Levianath peered up at the ramp just as the two appeared. Nyela was inspecting the sides of Sarion's hair, next to his ears, and Levianath noticed that on both sides were now shiny silver streaks against the jet black.

Sarion chuckled, gently reaching up and tugging Nyela's hands away from his hair, keeping one hand in his grasp. "It's _silver,_ darling," he said in teasing undertones, somewhat sarcastic with the grin he was making. "And I think it's sleek."

"Well no one said it wasn't," she grinned at him affectionately, straining on her tiptoes to kiss his stubbly cheek.

Julian peered at Sarion from where he and Reece remained on the floor.

"What? You have grey hair?"

"Before you worry, I already talked to Tiberius about it," Sarion laughed slightly. "He said it's a side effect from what happened last night. It's rare, but it happens."

"Pigment loss?" Levianath stood up, setting the book on the seat, and walked to Sarion. Sarion gave him a friendly nod of greeting before addressing the question.

"Yes. He said it happens to priests when they take the elixir that we had last night. He hadn't really expected it to happen to an elf. I see you're unaffected, though."

Levianath smirked and brushed his fingers through his hair once. "Nope, plain as ever, far as I know."

To his side, Julian appeared in front of Sarion, inspecting the Night Elf with an impish smirk. "Oh, man," Julian groaned, "I mean, I'll admit your hair was already bad before, but _now-!"_

Sarion chuckled roughly at the teasing and attempted to grab Julian, but the boy dodged away, chortling, and spoke again in a playful tone as he dipped back in for another jab. "I have some ink in my workshop that could take care of it, if you're desperate. All I have are red and blue, though, so don't be picky. You can't afford to be, looking like that."

Levianath couldn't help but start laughing as well at the boy's relentless snark, and Sarion sent the boy a joking glare.

"You're taller than me now, Julian, but I'll still kick your ass," he laughed, and Nyela began to chuckle, her laughter mingling with everyone else's.

"Hey, that's my saying," Nyela piped in playfully, and then tugged on Sarion's hand. "He's as bad as your brother was. C'mon, let's go swimming. It's not gonna be warm enough to swim for much longer."

As they left, Julian called out after Sarion one last time, "If you ever come to your senses, you know where to find me! Last thing we want is your weird head outlined in silver forever!"

"See? He says it's silver, too!" Levianath heard Sarion laughing while they disappeared.

Levianath smirked and looked at Reece and Julian. Reece had the baby in her arms now and was making a face at the smell of a dirty diaper, and Julian was already seeking out a fresh one.

"I'm heading down to the ship for a bit," Levianath commented calmly. "I'll be back eventually."

Julian waved a hand at him dismissively as he rifled through a bag. "Yeah, yeah, gotta find Fiammetta, I get you."

Levianath smirked. "Right."

He took off toward the docks. The walk was peaceful, and his mind felt clear. Clearer than ever, really. He wondered if Tiberius and Sarion's elixir had done more than just connect his mind to Sarion's. Levianath had never felt this _open_ about everything, and especially not this great after something so bad had happened. Was this just what it felt like to have friends you can rely on, or was it something more? He felt safe most of all, and that too was foreign.

He wasn't used to feeling so...calm.

Maybe part of Sarion's mind had left itself in his own? Like a residual positive energy or something? Levianath _wanted_ to believe it had been solely himself pulling off that impressive emotional one-eighty, especially with Julian yesterday, but he knew there was some other factor to it. People don't change that quickly, and the fact that he could see the change and could see how strange it was led him to believe it was an effect of what had happened with the Priest's potion. He wondered if it'd wear off, and what might happen when that happened.

Levianath reached the docks and saw the ship at the far north end, and even from the distance could see repairs being made to the cracked mast and the old sails being replaced. The people climbing all over the ropes on the ship looked like spiders on a spiderweb.

When he got close enough, the sound and bustle of people intensified to where it was a constant drone, with an occasional rise and fall of different voices right and left as merchants sold their wares and different workers maneuvered shipments in and out of the docks. He pushed his way through the crowds and finally made his way onto the ship, where he was greeted by a few sailors whose names he'd never learned but faces he recognized. Still he hadn't seen Fiammetta, but he hoped to find her in her cabin; it was where she preferred to work the quartermaster books, since it was quiet in there.

He knocked on her door, dodging slightly when someone carrying a long beam almost hit him in the head on accident, and then the door swung open.

He nearly didn't recognize her; she'd entirely changed her hairstyle, and one side of it was shaved. He'd always thought of her as looking somewhat more elf-like, but this, combined with her tusks, made her look unmistakably Troll. Something about the style brought out her rougher side, and he found it irresistibly attractive. Being away for just over a week had made him realize that now, seeing her again, she was so out of his league, it was painful.

When her blue eyes fell on his, her face went from somewhat bored to gaining a hint of happiness, which made him feel pretty good. Not to mention, seeing her after everything that had happened gave him an even greater feeling of comfort and security, and he couldn't deny that he'd missed her, a lot.

"You're back," she commented, and he nodded quietly. She stepped aside and beckoned him in, and once she closed the door and turned to him, he finally caved in and hugged her. He didn't want to kiss her right now, didn't feel like going in that direction. He just wanted her warmth, her contact, and hugging her turned out being exactly what he'd needed.

She seemed a bit taken by surprise, but she hugged him back.

"What's going on?" her Trollish voice was calm, and she chuckled. "You've never hugged me before."

He squeezed his arms a little tighter, breathing in her scent and burying his face in her neck. His voice was a rich hum, slightly muffled against the cloth of her shirt. "I missed you."

"It's only been a week," she reasoned, allowing him to prolong the hug as he preferred. "But I missed you, too. Are you alright?"

He loved the way her voice sounded so close to his ear. It was warmer, richer, and sent little tingles down his spine.

"I'm alright," he reassured after releasing her from the hug. "I just...really missed you."

She studied him intensely for a good five seconds, her hands still at his sides. "O-kay," she said slowly. "What happened while you were gone?"

"It's a very long story," he murmured as he walked further into her room and sat down on the arm of the loveseat.

"Tell me," she beckoned him to instead sit beside her in the chair, and so, with nothing held back, Levianath told her. He told her everything, didn't leave a single thing out, and she watched him intently, those cerulean blue eyes of hers so intense as he recapped his week. He told her of how horrible he'd felt upon letting Julian down, and how much he regretted taking the lives of his brothers, regardless of their actions. Levianath was entirely positive that this was the most he had ever spoken aloud at one time, ten times over, save for when he'd talked to Julian the night before.

Fiammetta was quiet for a while after Levianath's story ended, and finally she tilted her head, the two of them sitting a mere foot apart. "So, you're telling me you feel remorse for getting rid of evil men who made you miserable your entire life?"

"I didn't just 'get rid of them,' I _killed_ them. Murdered them, with my bare hands. Or, with the help of a demon, with my bare hands."

Her eyes squinted a hint. "And that's...bad?"

"Isn't it?"

She gave him a warm smile. "My moral code is apparently quite different from yours; exterminating murderous, hateful sociopaths from one's life is all right in my book. Now it all makes sense, why you were so quick to judge your father, why you despise familial ties. I'm just glad you've taken care of it, that it's no longer a threat for you. I'm glad that it turned out the way it did, and that you're alright."

Levianath let a small smile cover his mouth in return. He had expected her of all people to judge him the worst for it and here she was commending him. Come to think of it, she was, along with maybe Julian, one of the most supportive people in his life. Every time he'd expected her to disapprove of something he'd done, she'd done the opposite. Maybe he needed to reevaluate his expectations of this woman, because time after time she surprised him. She really was far more accepting than he gave her credit for.

He smiled again when she let her hand fall on his, on his knee.

"Thank you for trusting me with all of that," she said calmly, a hint of affection in her voice. "It does mean a lot that you would come to me and share this. Don't take offense, but you are _so_ different than when I first met you, and I'm glad of it. I like this sharing side of you; it helps me understand you."

Levianath smiled, but didn't say anything. Fiammetta watched him a while, then squeezed his hand.

"If you still do want to find your own way, to settle down and dig roots, I understand, but I'd be lying if I said it'd make me happy."

His eyes narrowed slightly in thought. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you should stay here," she gave him a sincere look.

Levianath looked mildly confused. "For…how long?"

She smirked. "I mean you should _stay_ here. With me, as a part of the crew. Make this vessel your home. It'll grow on you pretty fast, if you let it. You know the captain will welcome you with open arms."

A heavy pause, and then Levianath let a smile creep onto his face. He hadn't even thought about this. "Alright."

"Alright?"

"Alright," he confirmed. "Alright, yes. I'll stay, given that I can keep an eye on Julian one way or another."

Her face spread to a grin, her expression so contrasting against her outward appearance. Her shaved head, her tusks, and her intense, large eyes, were all softened with the smile. Since the time he'd met her, she'd become far less demanding with him and more lenient with her expressions. She smiled a lot more, now, and he wondered if this was what she was like normally. He hoped so; he loved this side of her, though at the same time part of him secretly hoped maybe she was only this way with select people, that somehow he was special. He had a feeling that was just wishful thinking.

"I thought I was going to have to do a little more convincing," she laughed lightly. "You just made things very easy."

Levianath chuckled, and kept his smile as her expression changed into something different, something offbeat, something he couldn't quite read. A few seconds passed.

"What?" he asked teasingly.

"Nothing," she shook her head, still looking at him funny, with a sort of wily smile. "We just haven't seen each other in a week."

For a moment he thought her eyes smoldered, and he opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again mischievously, giving her nothing more than a playful smirk.

"Don't give me that look," she bit at him whimsically.

He let his mouth widen to an open grin. "What look?"

"You know exactly what you're doing," her eyes bored into his, holding both a smile and a challenge.

"You give me too much credit, Evenstar," he bit back, leaning back in the loveseat and sitting in a slightly-more stretched-out manner, relaxing.

She scooted a little closer to him on the loveseat, practically halfway onto his lap, causing him to be hyperaware of their contact. "Let me spell it out for you," she purred as she leaned in, and she lightly nipped his lower lip. He inhaled slightly through his teeth, but he sat there, amused, drawing out the tension on purpose and not quite reciprocating, though everything in him ached to do so, to wrap his hands up around her and draw her in.

She was unfazed. "When I say I haven't seen you in a week, what I really mean to say is, 'lock the door.'"

Levianath grinned wider and then gave in when she kissed him heavily, reaching up to hold the back of her head, fingers weaving into her thick hair, or what was left of it. He reached one arm around her waist and hoisted her into his lap, resting his hands on her hips and becoming lost in her kiss.

She finally broke away and smirked at him. "I wasn't joking. Lock the door."

He chuckled and, once she'd set him free, went to her door and bolted it. He turned around and sent her a spirited smile, and chased her to her bed.

Maybe now, he thought, finally, he was home.

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

Julian floated lazily on his back in one of the orchard pools, eyes half closed, and took a deep, refreshing breath. Nyela's suggestion to Sarion earlier about swimming had not escaped him, and it'd sounded so good that he ended up convincing Reece to swim with him as well, so long as it was somewhere they could be alone. He'd taken her to one of the tinier pools at the western end, where nearly no one went and especially not in the fall since it tended to be colder. He liked the temperature, though, and clearly Reece did, too.

He sighed once before letting himself dip all the way underwater and then back up, brushing the water out of his eyes and slicking his hair back. He glanced over in Reece's direction, noting that she was perusing about the bottom of the pool between the various plants. That girl could hold her breath for a _long_ time, minutes on end, and he was jealous. She seemed to like swimming underwater more than floating atop it, and she was good at it, too.

Julian had earlier swiped a pair of Nyela's shorts and one of her thin-strapped shirts for Reece. Initially Reece had been planning on swimming in her clothes, and Julian was appalled, even a little disgusted. Swimming in clothing? That would feel awful. He wouldn't allow it.

Not to mention, when Reece had changed into the swim-friendly apparel, Julian had been a bit speechless. He'd only ever seen her in giant, baggy pants and thick, obscuring shirts, and to see this much arms and legs was overwhelming. It was basically the first time he'd ever _actually_ thought of her as a girl. Seeing is believing, right?

She finally popped up above the surface, her brown hair slicked back out of her face, which made her look so different. The combination of her being not only clear of the dirt that always seemed to find her face, but also in the simple clothes, as well as with her hair out of her face, made her look stunning. Her clean skin glowed, her eyes were big and beautiful, and the smile on her freckled face was to die for.

Julian, overcome and enthralled with this girl, grinned widely as she approached him in the water. She had a playful, odd look on her face, somewhat impish with the way her lips were pressed together, and before he could say anything to her, she suddenly spit a mouthful of water at him that hit him square in the chest.

"Hey!" he chortled, and she dipped underwater to avoid his reach, then shot back up and did it again. This time he caught her and wrestled to keep her from repeating her assault, which was a little difficult because she was splashing him relentlessly, both of them laughing heavily.

He finally managed to wrap one arm around her waist, and he took advantage of the situation by heaving her in toward him, lifting her up against his chest, and grinning at her as he pinned her there in what was basically an immobilizing hug.

"Ha," he grinned as she wiggled against his grip, but then suddenly she leaned in and bit her teeth against his collarbone, and he let out a bark of amused surprise and let her go.

"No biting!" he exclaimed, laughing, and she melted into giggles.

"You can't make up rules," she retorted, swimming away from him toward the shore. He chased after her and caught her by one arm, pulled her back, and lifted her up easily as she wiggled and fought against his grip, still laughing.

"So if you can bite and splash, I can pick you up and toss you around," he reasoned through laughter. "Playing to our strengths."

"But you didn't tos-" she began, and he grinned and launched her out into the water with an easy throw; to him, she was practically weightless.

This time he was the one fleeing her as he waded toward the shore, but she was fast, and she caught up with him in mere seconds, tackling him into the water. Julian, laughing and sputtering water from his mouth and sinuses, finally gave up and just stood there motionless as Reece splashed him for a few seconds, and then she stopped.

She stepped a little closer to him. "Are you alrig—ah!"

Julian had purposefully completely relaxed and dropped forward, toppling right on top of her and dunking both of them underwater as she tried to catch him. He began to laugh even before he'd surfaced, and when he did, Reece was quick to follow, shouting loud, humorous-sounding words he couldn't quite make out.

Before he'd even wiped the water from his eyes, he reached out through his laughter, caught the loud girl up in his arms, and kissed her ardently, cutting off her words with his smiling lips. The young couple became entwined there waist-deep in the tiny, orchard pool, forgetting the world around them and only holding attention for one another. A cold breeze pricked Julian's exposed, wet skin, refreshing and invigorating as Reece drew him closer to her and kissed him passionately.

His fingers braided themselves into her dripping, choppy hair as he wrapped his other arm around her posterior and lifted her up to his level. She wrapped her legs on either side of his waist and her arms behind his neck, giggling against his lips, the vibrations of her voice heightening his senses. He grinned through the kiss. He'd never get tired of this girl, ever.

He pulled away after taking his time. "Reece, I'd like to take you on a date," he said matter-of-factly, still holding her there against him, halfway in the water.

Her brown eyes, the lashes sticking together due to the water, blinked once. "I've never been on a date."

"Me neither," he grinned back. "It'll be an adventure."

"Well what would we do first?" she lifted her brows.

"Um," he thought a moment. "Get dressed, I suppose."

"I don't have nice clothes," she replied, as if it were a confession.

"We could steal more of Nyela's, if you want."

"Won't fit. I'm taller than she is. This shirt barely fits me as it is."

"Well, let's buy some!" he exclaimed, smiling. "I mean, it's not weird to go shopping on a date, right?"

"I have no idea if it is or not!" she giggled back.

He finally set her down, and she sank into the water 'til it reached her ribs.

"Let's do this, then," he grinned. "I'm buying."

She grinned back at him. "Great. It's a date!"

An hour later, they arrived at the dress shop in somewhat simple clothing. Julian hadn't thought to wear anything nice, just some regular slightly-torn linen pants and a pullover shirt, and Reece had just put on her dirty clothes again after swimming. He'd scrounged up every coin he had and stuffed them into a satchel; he never spent his money, save for maybe engineering materials, and that was maybe four or five times a year, total. He was a big saver, had been saving for as long as he could remember, and had nearly one thousand gold pieces stashed away. And, honestly, he was entirely willing to spend _all_ of it on Reece, if she so pleased.

He held the door of the shop open for her and walked in after. Without even really thinking about it, the two of them completely ignored all the dresses in one half of the store and went straight to the pants and jackets.

Suddenly in front of them appeared a human woman, middle-aged, with an insincere smile on her face. "Can I help you...two?" she very obviously dragged her eyes across their dirty clothing in a disapproving grimace.

Julian smiled at her brightly. "Yes, we're looking for some clothes. Something she can wear on a date."

The woman just flicked her finger for them to follow her to a corner section of the small shop, and pointed to three different busts. "I recommend these," she said with a waxy smile.

Julian and Reece stared at the clothes a moment. They were boring, plain greyish-brown, and looked extremely cheap. He glanced over at Reece, who looked a little lost, like she'd never shopped for clothes in her life and felt a bit overwhelmed.

Julian shook his head. "No, these won't do," he announced. "Something a bit nicer, maybe? I don't mean to snub these, I mean they are great, but not what I'm looking for."

The shopkeep grudgingly led them both to another display, and again Julian declined. This happened two more times, and the woman looked about to burst, but suddenly Julian glanced across the store and brightened.

"OOH, Reece, look at this one!" he jogged across the store, yanked the outfit from the mannequin, and brought it to Reece, despite the complaints from the shopkeep for touching it.

Reece's eyes immediately lit up, but the woman let out a sound of distress.

"That one is very pricey. You may want to try something in a lower range," she said in almost a whisper.

Julian shook his head obliviously. "Nah, Reece, try it on! It even looks like your size!"

Reece went behind one of the curtained fitting areas and quickly changed, and when she walked out, Julian lost his voice. The outfit was modest and clean, flattering, and most of all, hugged all the right places. She wore a silken shirt of white, embellished with beige, warm red, and dark brown, and topped with pale gold filigreed designs. The pants were simple dark brown, with the ankles striped in thin white and red designs that flared outward. It was both sharp and also somewhat feminine in its style, but at the same time, not overboard, and Julian immediately loved it on her.

"Reece!" he finally sputtered. "You look like a painting! Do you like it?"

She beamed at him and nodded enthusiastically, and he looked at the shopkeep beside him. "I'll take it."

"You understand that these two pieces together total one hundred and twenty gold, right?" the woman was disbelieving as she walked around behind her counter.

Julian pulled out his money and placed one organized roll of 100 coins on the counter, and then sectioned out 20 more and pushed them toward her. "Should all be there," he smiled, oblivious to her judgmental demeanor, and returned his attention to Reece, who was still wearing the outfit. He shook his head at her with a smile. "You look amazing."

The woman across the counter finally spoke up, shock edging her voice. "Looks like it's all here," she exclaimed with a little too much surprise. "And...the name on the receipt?"

"Julian Silverpaw."

The woman suddenly appeared apologetic. "Oh, Mr. Silverpaw! Of course!" she offered them both an embarrassed smile. "Would you like us to deliver the package?"

"Actually, yeah," Julian ran over and grabbed Reece's dirty clothes, then set them unceremoniously on the counter. "But could you just send _these_ to the orchard instead? It'd definitely save us some time."

The woman looked a little miffed, but she did take the clothes. "Yes, we can...do that."

Julian, for good measure, gave her an outrageously-high tip, and politely said his goodbyes upon walking out with Reece. He couldn't stop looking at her, now that she'd brushed her hair and was wearing flattering, dare he say, feminine, clothing, and he had entirely lost his words.

She peered up at him as they walked. "Where to now?"

He, after a few heavy seconds, cleared his throat. "I uh, I suppose we eat."

"Great! Ideas as to where?"

"I know a good place," he smiled, taking her hand, and led her to a Pandaren restaurant that served (somewhat) authentic Pandarian food.

Ultimately, the date was fantastic. Of course it would have been, with Reece, but he couldn't help but feel pleased that an idea of his own had actually gone well for a change. To top it all off, Reece had never had a fortune cookie before, so once they left the place after nearly two hours, they walked out the door with an entire wicker basket full of the cookies. Julian hadn't been able to resist buying it for her. Whatever she wanted, he'd do his best to give, and he knew she wasn't used to this sort of treatment. He hoped she didn't mind him doting on her. What else would he spend his savings on?

He cracked open a cookie and read the paper while they made their way back to the orchard. "Age can never hope to win you while your heart is young," he read in an overly-wisened tone, and Reece smiled and took one for herself.

Reece munched on it, holding the paper out in front of her and speaking as she chewed and walked at the same time. "Do not tease an armed Gnome with a high five."

Julian burst out laughing, nearly dropping the basket into the canals. "Is that for real?"

"Yeah," she chuckled, mostly at his reaction.

"Save that paper," he grinned happily. "We'll make it a competition to find the best one, once we eat all of them."

"You know we're going to eat all of them by tonight," she reasoned. "Or, if you don't, I will. Actually, probably in the next...hour."

He grinned and looped her into a lanky hug as they walked. "And this is why I love you."

She smiled blithely and leaned into his hug. Julian hadn't even noticed what he'd said.

* * *

They reached the orchard, and as much as Julian wanted to show off Reece's new outfit, he didn't want to give away her secret without her wanting to, so they sneaked around the forest and into the main tree through the back. She'd changed into her normal clothing in no time and saved her nice outfit in a neat, folded stack.

As they meandered down the ramp, suddenly Levianath appeared in front of them, and he looked relieved.

"There you two are," he announced. "Been looking for you guys for ten minutes. Captain's back. We're ready to leave, and he wants Reece back on the ship before casting off."

"What? Where to?" Reece asked, perking up.

"Gadgetzan, Tanaris. Julian, your parents await us there with Raphael and his guild; your father used a portal. Norivana said if you do choose to come, hitch a ride on the ship."

"All of that happened in two hours?" Julian squeaked, and Levianath chuckled.

"You can do a lot in two hours. Now come on, don't want to keep them waiting!"

Julian and Reece tumbled down the ramp after the half-elf, and Julian felt a rush of excitement. It was all boiling down to the final moments; that slavers' camp wouldn't last the week once he and his army arrived.

* * *

**Had to include a fluffy chapter before throwing the world to chaos, of course. **


	18. Impulse

**Hey readers, I'm running out the door but wanted to post this chapter really quickly. **

**I have the next chapter already written, so I'll have responses for the most recent chapter included with that one later either tonight or tomorrow.**

**Thanks, and enjoy! :)**

* * *

Levianath didn't consider himself a cuddler, but he had to admit, as he rested his head in Fiammetta's lap and she caressed her fingers lightly through his dark hair, it was a pretty damn good feeling. He'd never felt this comfortable with affection before. The woman's claws traced delicate, therapeutic lines aside his ears, and Levianath's eyes had closed in relaxation.

The two of them awoke before all but the A.M. crew, and with nothing else to do, they'd had their breakfast and were now relaxing on the loveseat in her cabin, listening to the sound of the ship surging through the water. Levianath had intended upon seeking out a place to sleep below deck, but, of course, he had ended up in Fiammetta's room instead. It was clear that whether or not he had his own bed, they'd end up together either way.

Captain Darkrunner had cast off the night prior, and the man stayed up with the crew for nearly the entire night, catching up with them and socializing among them all, which Fiammetta said was a rare occurrence. Wraith tended to be too busy, or half the time wasn't even on his own ship. But his crew had loved it, as they practically worshiped him. Levianath was also pretty sure Reece and Julian had been in the mix as well, because he felt like the laughter that came from the gathering was too frequent and too loud for there not to have been a direct source of entertainment like the pair that was Julian and Reece.

Speaking of those two, Levianath was relieved they'd finally gotten together. They seemed happier, which was saying a lot, seeing as they tended to be overly-enthusiastic about the world anyway. Together, they were an unstoppable force of feverish glee, supportive of each other and fuel to one another's humor. And now that they were apparently dating, their personalities shined brighter than ever before.

Speaking of dating, Levianath's thoughts traveled back to the woman whose lap his head rested in. He wondered what her plan was in all of this, or if there was one. If this between them meant anything, or if she'd intended what she said last month, about no strings attached. Obviously their dynamic had changed drastically since then, and he did consider her at _least_ his friend. He considered her a lot more, actually, but hadn't brought himself to admit that. He wouldn't be the one to get involved with someone when he wasn't supposed to, and especially not develop feelings for her when she didn't reciprocate them. That's to say she didn't, at least.

If this was still a no-strings type of deal, he could handle that. He could. Really.

He chewed the inside of his lip in thought, and then as if intending to scatter his thoughts, Fiammetta spoke.

"You know," her lilted voice sounded out after ages of comfortable silence, and her tone held humor. "You're sort of pretty."

"That so?" He peeked open one eye teasingly. "I look like your godfather."

"Not in my eyes," she responded with a subtle smile. "To anyone else, you may look identical, but I see greater differences between the two of you than I do between you and Julian."

The corners of his mouth curved upward as he closed his eyes again. "Mm. Such as?"

"Well, for starters," she cleared her throat, "Your entire face."

He couldn't hold back a laugh, which escaped his chest in a warm chuckle. "How informative," he retorted jokingly.

He felt her hands brush along the sides of his hair now, drawing it into a sleek handful, and then she began to braid the strands by his face absently. He'd never had his hair braided and was unsure of how he felt about the look of it, but he'd let her do whatever she wanted.

"You don't look much like an elf, compared to him," she finally continued her thoughts, speaking leisurely. "You're...temperate, in contrast."

"Temperate?"

"Softer, more delicate."

Levianath grinned. "Of all words used to describe me over the years, those have never been on the list."

"Levianath, you are delicate. Even _my_ hands are bigger than yours," she chuckled in response, and he curiously brought up one palm to stare at it as she kept speaking. "You are delicate, intelligent, and sly, like a fox. Your father is a grizzly bear; strong, protective, cunning, ruthless. I thought you two were the same when I met you. I was wrong. You are both very different."

Levianath kept looking at his hand, and then he reached out and took hers, placing them together. He stared. Her hands really _were_ bigger than his. He blamed this on the Troll genes.

He wove his fingers in between hers instead of letting her go. Part of him wanted to speak up and ask about their relationship, but a greater part chickened out, so instead of speaking, he sat up a little, looped his free hand into her hair, and kissed her. The presence of her tusks, something that had been initially strange for him, now eased his thoughts, put him into a sense of security. They were the thing that set her apart from anyone else he'd ever kissed, and he loved the way their lips fit together like a puzzle. Like she was made for him, or vice versa.

He lingered a moment, his nose brushing hers, eyes shut, and then let out a satisfied sigh and relaxed back down. "That's never getting old," he murmured contentedly to himself, and although his eyes were shut, he somehow sensed her smile.

"After so many, you'd think you'd get tired of it," she said teasingly.

"So many what?"

"Women."

His eyes opened, and he peered up at her. She didn't look anything other than playful, and he snorted. "Wanna know a secret?"

"With a lead up like that, I most certainly do."

"I'm not _that_ good with women."

"Right," she retorted sarcastically, "and I'm not good at scaring the piss out of people."

He grinned. "I'm flattered you think I'm lying."

She squinted at him. "What about that woman at the Salty Sailor tavern? You barely had to say ten words."

"You saw that?"

"I'm very observant."

"Evidently," he smiled a little. "As for her... she'd have been the first in an embarrassingly-long time, and that encounter too crumbled before it had a chance to spread its wings. I'm nowhere near as dissolute as you assume I am."

"Huh," Fiammetta's head tilted to the side. "In that case I should keep my mouth shut about my own past conquests, yeah?"

"Conquests?" he began to laugh.

"I've been around a good long while," she smirked back. "They begin to add up once you hit fifty years."

"Right," Levianath chortled back at her as he finally sat up, interrupting her braiding, and she made a sound of complaint when the braids unraveled. He kept speaking, his tone switching to somewhat tongue-in-cheek. "I'll have you know that I very much do _not_ want to hear about whatever lingers in your past. Your 'conquests' may make me feel..." he trailed off, then smirked in a flashy, impish manner, "...inadequate."

"There is no way that word could be applied to you, regarding anything," Fiammetta laughed aloud, which made Levianath smile brighter.

"Your compliments are the best compliments," his voice dipped low as he began to tilt toward her.

"I never say what I don't mean," she replied back, watching him from under her astute brows with a sly stare as he drew nearer. "That's why they're the best."

"Mmhm," he hummed, finally leaning in close enough and letting his lips fall into the curve of her neck, and he smiled to himself at the way her skin flushed at his contact.

An interruption in the form of a steadily-rising uproar from the sailors outside the cabin finally forced the couple to break apart as Fiammetta grudgingly stood and stomped over to the door, obviously and hilariously piqued. She pulled it open, stood there a second, and suddenly all the sailors outside let out vibrant shouts of enthusiasm at the same time, as if a reaction. Fiammetta, after a moment of sheer silence, turned her face to Levianath in an exasperated manner and beckoned him over with a jerk of her head.

"Come look at this," she said in a defeated tone.

Levianath, confused, left his place from the loveseat and stepped up beside her in the doorway, peering through the crowd of gathered workers.

Before he could see what was going on, another roar arose from the sailors, cheering and shouting and jeering loudly. Finally, they parted just enough that Levianath caught a most entertaining sight.

Reece Black, scrappy, scruffy Reece, was currently engaged in a wrestling match with a guy twice her size, and was _winning_. The man, a green-skinned, roughly-built Orc, was either laughing or growling (Levianath couldn't quite tell), as Reece had him pinned to the deck floor. One of his arms was so tightly-restrained, Levianath thought it was a wonder it hadn't dislocated. Reece apparently thought the same, because as the Orc continued to attempt to get the upper hand, she intensified the hold until the man let out a bark of defeat and slammed his hand against the floor. Immediately Reece released him, laughing hysterically, and she relaxed, exhausted, right there on the ground, letting her head hit the floor as the Orc regained use of his arms. The surrounding sailors immediately were thrown into an uproar of cheers and whoops and hollers, and Levianath sent a glance at Fiammetta and started laughing, and she smirked back.

"Gruko is a new recruit," she nodded her head toward the Orc. "He didn't know better than to accept her wrestling challenge. Wrestling Reece is like a rite of passage for newbies. None of them ever win."

Levianath leaned against the door frame, watching as the Sailors helped Reece up and cheered her on. He saw Julian in the mix, and laughed aloud at the look on Julian's face. Julian was beaming, eyes holding nothing but Reece, and he pushed his way through to her.

Levianath saw them exchange a few words back and forth; both of them were speaking animatedly, and Julian seemed a bit dazed, or even star-struck. His hands were on her shoulders, and the two were laughing fairly heavily at whatever it was Julian had just said.

At first Levianath couldn't pick up what they were saying, but then he finally caught the butt-end of it.

"-have no idea how badly I need to kiss you right now," Julian exclaimed, the words unnoticed by the surrounding sailors, who had turned their attention to Gruko the defeated Orc and were jokingly teasing him.

Levianath's brows lifted attentively, and he stood up a bit straighter. The kid was getting bolder, and Levianath wanted to see what direction this might take.

Reece, beaming back at him, apparently forgot where she was, because a second later, she'd reached up, tugged Julian's face down to hers and kissed him, right there, in front of everyone.

A surprised, dwindling hush trickled over the workers as one by one they stood witness to the two. Someone dropped what looked like a bottle, which rolled across the deck between pairs of feet, the only clinking sound in otherwise silence for the few split seconds that Julian and Reece stood there entangled and oblivious.

Julian pulled away from the kiss finally, eyes remaining on Reece, and he beamed at her.

"I love you," the redhead said in a breathless tone, and Levianath's brows shot up even further when Reece responded back.

"I love _you,"_ she replied excitedly, either ignoring or unaware of their audience.

"D'you want to-" Julian began to ask, and Reece nodded fervently.

"Yes," she interrupted him. "You find the Captain, and I'll be right back!"

"Right now?" Julian seemed delighted.

"Yes!" she replied back. "Go!"

With that, she bolted downstairs, and Julian whipped around, searching through the crowd of people for the captain. The surrounding sailors still watched Julian in surprise, a few of them beginning to laugh in confusion, murmurs carrying through the group.

Julian seemed unaffected, and he finally began to make his way across the ship determinedly once his eyes found their target, the captain, who'd been steering the ship. Curiously, Levianath left Fiammetta behind and followed after the kid, pushing through the sailors who were now starting to dazedly return to their various jobs. He caught a few conversations as he traveled through.

"Well _that_ was unexpected," a human woman snorted humorously, her voice low and gruff.

"I had no idea Reecey was a sweetie," another person commented, laughing. "Makes sense, though!"

"For the blimey elf!" a different guy laughed. "Of course for an elf! It's always the elves that turn 'em."

"I knew it!" a fourth announced. "I knew he 'n that red-haired bloke had somethin' funny goin' on. What a way to announce it."

Levianath shook his head and kept following Julian, who seemed oblivious to everyone but the captain. Levianath's suspicions intensified. What was it they had planned?

"Julian Silverpaw, good man, how are you?" Wraith welcomed the boy as he bounded up the stairs to the wheel. Julian sent the man a friendly hello, appearing somewhat flustered. Levianath kept a little distance, but listened in closely.

The captain seemed entertained. "Quite a stunt you and Reece pulled down there. Were you trying to give the crewmates heart attacks?"

"About that," Julian said, drawing his courage, but then he seemed to clam up.

A moment of pause, and the captain laughed. "Well, come on boy, speak! You look about to burst. What can I help you with?"

"You're a ship captain, right?" Julian asked.

Wraith chuckled, and he held his arms out to his sides. "When last I checked, I was indeed captain of this vessel. Far as I am concerned, no alterations have occurred."

"R-right," Julian hesitated. "Well, I was wondering..."

"Yes?"

"I mean, Reece and I were wondering..."

"Yes?!"

"Could you... I mean, we decided that we want to..." Julian swallowed hard and scratched the back of his head, and Levianath's throat suddenly became dry as he finally caught on to what Julian was doing. His heart sank.

_No._

No way.

This was _not_ happening. Of all the impulsive, insane things Julian and Reece could have decided to do, Levianath never would have expected _this_, and his first reaction was one of dumbstruck panic. His eyes widened in anticipation of what Julian was about to say, and then, the young man actually said it.

Julian took a deep breath, standing straighter, confident, and sent the captain an excited grin. "Since you're a captain, you can officiate marriages, and Reece and I want you to marry us."


	19. Pledge

**So how 'bout that marriage bomb, eh? As promised here's part two of that chapter!**

**Review Responses**

**Chapter 17: **

**Zarabethe: Two thousand babies. Yes! :P Lev, Fia, get on that! (their ultra-hybrid bebeh is so precious)**

**Suneeku: Haha! No she definitely did not deserve it... Julian's just too kind.. :P**

**ToxicStar9: Norivana will show up in either next chapter or the following one, and I miss her, too! I can't wait to bring her back in. :) **

**Ophie: Aha! Yes indeed, big super epic fight coming up soon, and can't have one without Raphael! :)**

**Chelinka: Yasss, make a comfort pillow with the fluffiness! xD**

**Chapter 18: **

**Chelinka: Oh dear! Don't explode your head, you need it for stuff!**

**Zarabethe: Hngh, there's so much fluff. SO MUCH FLUFF. Don't worry, lovely characters, I'll be throwing you all into painful, horrifying danger soon enough. *hugs OCs***

**Kintaraheart: Hahaha! About the reaction I was hoping for!**

* * *

**Anyway, thanks everyone for reading, and hope you had a good weekend!**

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

"Reece and I want you to marry us," Julian had said in full confidence, and the captain's expression flickered from curiosity to pure, shocked amusement, and then into a full grin.

"By gods, boy, you're serious!" he laughed aloud, still holding onto the wheel, and Julian smiled back.

"Never been more serious."

"You do know that technically my power is self-assigned, yes? I am a pirate captain, not a royal fleet admiral, and even those require special licenses. I can indeed do as you ask, but it may not be the most "official" of ceremonies." He made bunny ears with his fingers on that word.

"It'll be exactly what we need," Julian grinned back, his heart jumping in excitement at the fact that the man had agreed to it. That's what he'd been worried about, that the captain would be upset or something and would refuse.

"Any day you have in mind?" the captain was thrilled.

Julian sent the man a bright smile. "Right now."

"Now?!" the pirate's voice was purely entertained, and he laughed heartily.

"Now, tomorrow, next month," Julian shrugged. "It won't matter in the long run. Might as well do it now."

Suddenly, he felt a hand grab his elbow and yank him backward, and he stumbled a little, turning his head to see Levianath pulling him away.

"A word, Julian?" Levianath requested sharply, though Julian knew he didn't actually have a choice either way. Levianath led him a good ways to the side and then stopped in front of him, staring at him like he'd gone crazy.

"What are you _thinking_?" the half-elf half-whispered.

Julian smiled wordlessly, and Levianath's expression of questioning shock simply intensified.

"You cannot do this, for Light's sake! I've made the same exact mistake you're about to make, and it's not pretty. Don't, for the love of all things reasonable, get married today."

"It's not a mistake," Julian laughed back lightly. "We talked about it last night once we got back to the ship, Levianath. It will be fine."

"You have no idea," Levianath's tone switched to pleading. "Marriage is not something you decide on upon a whim or an inkling of what feels like love. Please, _please_, use your head."

Julian didn't let this faze him. "I _am_ using my head," he replied reassuringly, though he knew his words did the man no good. "I love her, with all my heart, I do, and I want to marry her. What's the difference, now or later?"

Levianath balled his hands into frustrated fists, flexing them twice before he ran one hand through his loose, dark hair. "There's an incredibly massive difference between 'now' and 'later,' Julian. You two have been nothing but sunshine and daisies day in and day out, but what happens when real life hits you, and things get hard? There's so much that you're leaving to chance." He took a step in, dropping his voice, but keeping his demeanor pleading and somewhat miffed, worried even. "Seriously, Julian, I saw the way you two kissed. You clearly haven't even slept together yet, but you're already tying the knot. There are such things as incompatibilities that don't involve personalities."

Julian just laughed, and he placed his other hand firmly on Levianath's shoulder. "Lev, I hear what you're saying, I really do, and I appreciate that you care, but please, calm down." His free hand fell on his own chest. "I love Reece Black. I _love_ her, entirely, and more than anything I've ever wanted, I want to be with her for as long as I possibly can. I will marry her, one way or another."

"I know you love her," Levianath retorted, "and that's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried that what you're feeling, this infatuation with her, is going to fade - which _it is -_ and you'll be left with someone whom you have not taken the time to truly know. All I'm asking is that you wait."

He held up a hand when Julian opened his mouth to argue, shooting Julian a warning look before speaking again. "I have _nothing_ against Reece. Truly. I support you and her together, and I will to my own grave. However, I implore you to take a step back from this and look at it objectively. You've known her for, let's say, six months, give or take. If it were anyone else, would you support them getting married after having met only six months prior?"

"But it's not about someone else, it's about Reece," Julian reasoned back, and finally Levianath's eyes held nothing but helpless defeat as they searched Julian's.

"So, that's it?"

Julian meant to respond, but he paused when Levianath's eyes fell on something distant behind him, and he followed the man's gaze. A loving grin stretched across his face when he saw Reece wearing the outfit he'd bought for her in Stormwind. Jogging across deck, the now-very-obviously-a girl had drawn the attention of every single sailor around her. Julian beamed at the way her brown, scruffy hair caught the sunlight, how her smile lit up the entire world, and how beautiful she looked in that moment.

The poor crew was receiving one shock after the other regarding their cabin boy, and Reece was clearly finding far too much humor in all of it, sending some sailors playful gestures and teasing others as she passed them.

Julian reached back to Levianath, patting the man on the chest distractedly with the back of his hand.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to marry Reece Black," he said with a grin.

Levianath remained standing there as Julian and Reece met up in front of the captain. The nearest sailors still stared at Reece with bugging eyes.

Julian nudged Reece with his elbow excitedly, and she grinned up at him and took his hand in hers before regarding Captain Darkrunner. Julian formally folded his other hand over hers as well, mostly just to keep from excitedly fidgeting.

"Cap, if you'd do us the honors," he smiled, and the captain eyed the two of them sideways a moment, and finally chuckled.

"Well, technically," the man said, "if we are going by Stormwind customs, I am unfit to wed the two of you, seeing as I am in no way ordained in their cathedrals."

"That's fine, we don't care," Reece laughed. "We don't need Stormwind customs. We're the Bloodmoon Raiders; we make our own rules."

"A-ha!" the captain laughed happily, and he inelegantly ruffled her hair. "Oh that's why I keep you here, lad." He paused a moment. "Or, I suppose since you've outed yourself, I can call you 'lass.'" He gave them both a questioning glance. "So, you're sure this is what you want?"

Reece and Julian responded in an identical, resounding yes.

Darkrunner sent them both a slight nod. "So be it. This won't take long, then." He turned toward them just a little, but kept one hand on the wheel. He was multitasking between steering his ship and marrying a pair of goofy teenagers, and Julian found that highly entertaining.

"Reece Black," the captain began semi-formally, half-leaning against the helm, and Julian's heart jumped in excitement. This was happening. They were really getting married. He almost couldn't believe it.

"It appears this young man has captured your heart and desires to hold its key. Do you wish to give him the great honor of entitling him your husband, and you his wife?"

Julian smirked a little at the man's wordy question, but kept his eyes on Reece, and she grinned up at him, chuckling at the captain's words as well.

"I do," she laughed.

In the corner of his eye, Julian saw Levianath stumble back and slump down against the railing of the ship in finalizing defeat.

"And Julian Silverpaw," Darkrunner said, oblivious to Levianath's mental crisis, "do you in turn vow to uphold the faithful promise of marriage and love to this young woman?"

"I do," he couldn't stop smiling.

"Well then," the captain shrugged, "That's about all I can think to say. Your captain pronounces you husband and wife. You should probably kiss now, to be official and what have you."

Julian drew in close and gave his new wife the kiss of a lifetime.


	20. Assemble

**So, we have this chapter, then another bridge, and then I think it's time to storm the castle. As long as my plans carry through, that is. Whoo!**

**Responses:**

**Zarabethe: Ahaha, cuteness overload of all of them. xD**

**ToxicStar: Hah! Oh yes, that's exactly what he's thinking.**

**Kintaraheart: I have too much fun with Wraith's words! And Levi! At least he's not going grey like Sarion, yeah? :P**

**LadyRaftina: Oh yes, BE WORRIED. Mwahaha. **

**Willowstar: Poor Warlock, nobody listens to his logic. Maybe his recent actions negated his advice or something. xD**

**Ophianara Blade: Ahh, man I've done that before, the whole staying-up-too-late-reading-fanfiction-even-though-I-have-to-be-up-in-4-hours deal. I feel ya. **

* * *

Levianath, in a daze, stumbled back to Fiammetta's cabin. The entire ship had thrown itself into a state of pandemonium, the pirates having gone crazy with excitement as they cheered for Julian and Reece. Levianath got the idea that it wasn't a common occurrence for two people to marry on a pirate ship, especially not two so unanimously beloved as them.

He found her door already open, and once he stepped inside, he shut it forcefully as if to distance himself from what he'd just witnessed, to try to make some sense of it. He rested there against the door a moment, staring at the patterns in the wood with blank eyes, leaning a forearm against it.

Fiammetta's calm tone awoke him from his shock.

"What's going on out there?" she asked simply. "More wrestling?"

Levianath turned to her, dumbstruck for a good few moments, and he finally found his voice. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "They're...m-married."

Fiammetta sent him a look of humor while she organized the teas on one shelf. "What?" she snorted. "What are you talking about?"

"Maybe it's all one big prank of theirs," Levianath's brows tightened as he stumbled in and slumped down into the loveseat. He buried his face in his hands. "Oh, how badly I pray it is."

"Wait," Fiammetta walked around to face him, "you mean someone _just now_ got married? Who was it?"

Levianath swallowed difficultly and nodded. "Julian, to..." He couldn't even finish.

"Reece?"

He let out a stressed breath, offering Fiammetta a hopeless look of confirmation.

She stared at him for a good five seconds as the gears turned in her head, clearly shocked. Levianath felt bad to be the one to break it to her; part of him wished that she could have been the one to see it, not him, in which case she might have stopped it from happening.

But then, as he watched her, her face transformed from blunt surprise to a pleased smile.

"Oh, well, that's wonderful!" she enthused and returned back to organizing the tea, like nothing was wrong.

Levianath's mouth fell open. "You're not bothered by them getting _married_? They're so _young_!"

"Can you picture either one of them marrying anybody else?"

"Well, no, but-"

"-But, they're not your responsibility," she cut in. "They can make their own choices. I'm not saying you have to be happy for them, but maybe at least try? I've never seen anyone so perfectly matched as those two."

Levianath stared at her dumbly.

She approached him then, laughing at the look he was giving her, and spoke again. "Levianath," she placed both hands on the sides of his face. "It's going to be fine. It _is_ fine. You're worried for Julian, yes, but good news is that we can keep an eye on both of them here on the ship. It'll be no different."

"But there's so much they haven't considered-" he spoke again, and she placed one thumb over his lips softly to quiet him. He offered her a beseeching stare, but she gave him nothing but a confident smile, her lips pulling across her tusks.

"Best thing to give them right now is your support. It will make a big difference for Julian to have his best friend celebrating with him instead of scolding him."

Levianath bit the insides of his lips, pressing them together in a hard line, and then swallowed down his argument and offered back a slight nod. She had a point.

The uproar outside had reached an all-time high with songs and shouting and cheering, and Fiammetta smiled at him. "It sounds to me like the sailors are gearing for an all-day celebration. I know you don't care for such heavy socialization so I'll keep my cabin available as a retreat whenever you need it. I'm going to go hug the newlyweds and see about helping Wraith stabilize the sailors enough to keep the ship sailing."

Levianath watched her as she walked out into the chaos, and he rubbed a hand against his forehead distressingly. He observed her across the large vessel greeting the captain first, and then saw her immediately take charge and begin settling the hubbub with just a few words here and there to the loud sailors.

Things began to quiet down, and finally Levianath ventured out of the cabin, coming to a decision. Julian, as impulsive and crazy as his actions had been, was happy, and Levianath refused to let his own opinion ruin the boy's moment.

He took a deep breath, and headed out to celebrate.

* * *

Currently working off a hangover from the previous night, Levianath kept himself busy out on deck for a change, enjoying the overcast, cool weather and the wind in his hair. He'd spent some time working with the other sailors, doing menial tasks like helping to tie ropes and tighten pulleys and generally whatever else Darkrunner required of him to do. He could tell the man was giving him easy jobs, but he wanted something more difficult, something to throw himself into to keep his mind off his nausea and headache.

The hangover had of course stemmed from an excess of alcoholic drinks last night, though he really didn't recall having had that much. Then again, once he and Fiammetta had retired to her room, they'd kept drinking and laughing with one another late into the night.

Anyway, though, after Fiammetta had achieved order in the ship, she'd announced a celebration was due and had put together what was basically a day-long party in which there was laughter, games, drinking, and bonding among everyone on board. The workers rotated out every couple of hours to allow time for the others to have their turn of fun, and Julian and Reece had seemed to absolutely thrive on the energy of the party, despite it having lasted about twelve full hours.

Levianath, personally, was impressed at how Darkrunner and Fiammetta had kept the ship functioning and on-course the entire time, with so much hectic excitement.

All-in-all, it had been a good day, and Levianath had warmed up to the idea of the newlyweds being newlyweds by the end of the night. Something told him it was going to be fine, that they'd made a good decision despite its lack of planning or forethought or really any logic behind it at all.

As of now, though, he had taken a break from work for the time being, seeing as it was sometime just past noon and he'd put a few hours into work he wasn't required to do. He retrieved a book and sat out of the way on the edge of the deck, against a stack of crates and netting.

A glimmer of red caught his eye as Julian appeared from below deck for the first time that day, and immediately the kid was greeted by a couple of nearby sailors, who patted him on the back heartily and sent laughter his way.

Julian looked like he'd just now woken up, or hadn't slept at all. His hair was swept back from his face and across his shoulders, his shirt was loose at his chest, and his half-rolled trousers were bunched at the knees and worn haphazardly. The tall, cheerful young man saw Levianath after a moment, and sent him a single jerk of his head as a greeting, smiling, and approached him in a lanky walk.

Levianath returned with a knowing smirk, but said nothing. Julian sat down beside his friend, took a deep, contented breath, and let it out in a calm, rich hum as he closed his eyes and let his head rest back against the netting behind them, sprawling his feet out far in front of himself in relaxation.

"Sleep well?" Levianath asked him with a hint of playfulness to his tone. "Wink wink, nudge nudge."

Julian's smile simply widened, and he kept his eyes shut. "Mm-hmm."

The man grinned back proudly. "And how's the wife?"

Julian's eyes opened. "She is waiting for me to bring breakfast. I should probably get to doing that."

Levianath patted the boy on the back when he stood. "Yes, you should."

"Any idea when we'll be in Gadgetzan?" Julian asked, turned halfway toward Levianath and blocking the sun with his height.

Levianath nodded. "Fiammetta says late tonight, most likely."

He received a smile in response. "Great. Thanks!"

He waved the boy off and went back to reading.

* * *

_Julian_

* * *

Hands now full of assorted foods, Julian pushed open his door with one shoulder, and closed it with an elbow. He turned toward Reece, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor instead of the bed, which was common for her. She liked the ground better, said it felt more cozy to sit on anyways. Cards scattered the floor in front of her, and she held a few in one hand.

She beamed up at him when he entered, and he flopped down onto the ground easily, letting some of the fruits topple out of his arms and roll about the floor. Reece grabbed an apple from beside her foot and bit into it, and Julian pulled his hair back into a low ponytail, then grabbed his cards from the floor where he'd left them, sitting cross-legged in front of her so that their knees nearly touched.

"Now, where were we?" he smiled at her simply, and she finished chewing before she spoke.

"We're at the part where you play your awful hand and I win the game," she snickered back.

"Did you look at my cards?" he scolded in mock astonishment, his expression that of judging amusement. "Reece Black! You looked at my cards!"

Her contained laughter was hidden behind her own hand of cards, which she lifted in front of her face so that all he could see were her chocolate eyes under her messy hair.

He bit his lower lip and shook his head at her, keeping amused eye contact. "You're a piece of work."

"Too bad, Songbird, you're stuck with me," she giggled back, and he dropped his cards and scooted in, his mouth holding a permanent grin. He tugged her hands away to reveal her face and brought himself closer.

"Forever," he murmured happily, before tilting in and kissing her deeply.

The girl's hands tugged at the ties of his shirt, and he smiled somewhat abashedly. Last night had changed their dynamic so drastically, and yet somehow it all felt so perfect and normal that Julian could've sworn it was all a dream. When they'd ultimately headed back to their room after the giant celebration, all they'd done for the first two hours alone was...talk. Talking was what they always did, when they weren't off getting into trouble somehow. They never ran out of things to say, never became bored when they had each other, and for the longest time after saying goodnight to their friends, they hadn't realized that they were doing the whole 'wedding night' thing wrong.

But, of course, when Julian had brought that up in a purely joking manner late in the night, Reece's demeanor changed from complacent to some sort of insatiable, irresistible ardor, and Julian, upon realizing her intentions, quickly followed suit. As expected, they'd been all awkward clumsiness and laughter, but it had been, altogether, sublime.

Reece rolled them both over so that Julian was leaning his back against the bed behind him, kissing him happily. She pulled away after a moment. "When did they say we're getting to Tanaris?" She tucked a stray strand of his hair behind his ear.

Julian smirked at her random, distracted question. "Tonight."

She chewed her lip, an action that Julian lost himself in even after she spoke. "We should at least get _some_ sleep before we arrive there, or we'll be zombies on our feet."

"Right," Julian snickered at her, eyes flashing playfully. "Sleep. I forgot what that was, given recent events."

Reece responded with a hearty chuckle. "I liked not sleeping."

"I did too," he smiled, wrapping his arms around her as she melted into him. "We should not sleep a lot."

Giggling, Reece's mouth fell against his, and he kissed her back passionately, braiding his fingers into her short hair as she drew him in as well. A surge of adoration, comfort, and bliss washed through him as he came to the final assurance that this girl here in his arms was his wife, and he would love her to the end of time.

* * *

A loud knock at the door jolted Julian awake, and he sat up groggily from where the two had ended up dozed off on the floor. Reece, beside him, simply reached an arm up, grabbed the threadbare blanket off of the cot beside them, and mushed it over her own head.

Julian wiped the sleep from his eyes and stumbled to his feet. The door knocked again, and he finally opened it, only to reveal a tall Troll man, whom Julian recognized as Jin'jahibar, one of the night workers.

Jin'jahibar offered Julian a jerk of his brows and a sleek, tusked grin. "Sorry tah impose, Rusty, but we arrivin' at port soon an' the first mate wants me tah come wake da two of yah."

Julian smirked at the man's use of a nickname; he'd recently called Julian that in reference to his hair, said it was 'red as iron battling sea air' and thus began to call him Rusty.

"Sweet," Julian patted the rough Pirate on the arm in a friendly manner. "Thanks for the heads-up."

The Troll waved an arm in some sort of farewell-like gesture as he took off down the halls, and Julian returned back to the room. Reece, still under the old blanket, wrapped her knees up close in a ball and made a sound of resistance. Julian yawned widely, smiled, and stretched his long arms out wide to the sides happily.

"Have you ever been to Gadgetzan?" Reece asked in a muffled tone under the cloth.

"Nope, have you?"

"Yes."

A moment passed, and then Julian laughed. "And?"

"And it's insane. We should just stay on the ship."

"Come on, it can't be that bad," he chuckled and knelt down next to her, drawing up the piles of cards scattered across the floor.

She finally removed the blanket from her face, which revealed her hair all mussed up from the action. "Last time I was there, two warring Pirate factions broke into a gigantic fight throughout nearly half the town. The Steamwheedle got rid of 'em, but not before the offenders caught a bunch of buildings on fire and looted an engineering shop. Bruisers just ended up throwing every single bloody pirate out of their town, regardless of the network they belonged to. Which included us."

"Whoa. Cool." Julian's brows arched. "When was that?"

"The day before we fished you out of the water, off the coast of Tanaris," she smirked. "I'll be surprised if we get anything close to hospitality this time around."

"Let's hope you're surprised then," he smiled at her, leaning over and stealing a short kiss before standing and helping her up as well. The two then left their room, ready to arrive at the trading port.

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

A sense of inexplicable unease had trickled into the back of his mind upon seeing the lights of Gadgetzan far off on the water, glistening golden reflections on the sea glowing against the blackness of night. A dry, hot wind sucked the moisture from his skin despite him being surrounded by water on all sides, a polar opposite of the moist, cool air of Stormwind he already found himself missing.

Captain Darkrunner stepped up beside him, the two of them staring off toward the town that was growing swiftly larger on the horizon. Levianath glanced at him sideways before looking ahead again, not saying anything.

Darkrunner let out a contented sigh. "Gadgetzan, gem of Tanaris. I do quite love the place," he glanced at Levianath.

Levianath nodded minimally. "Never been."

"Oh, it is grand," the man said enthusiastically. "You get out of it what you put into it. Keep the violence to a minimum, and nobody here bats an eye as to who you are or what you do. Gadgetzan is friend to all who do their part to keep the coins, goods, and trade flowing. Also a big hit with the engineers."

"Julian knows his way around engineering," Levianath replied. "Maybe he'll like it there."

"Perhaps you will as well," Wraith smiled.

Levianath shrugged. "Perhaps. I go wherever this boat takes me. If that means to a desert Goblin trading port, so be it."

"Ship," the Blood Elf put in.

"Hm?"

"She's a ship, not a boat." The man winked.

"Right." Levianath smirked to himself, and he patted the wooden railing in front of him. "Sorry, didn't mean to offend her. What's her name, by the way? I've never thought to check."

"_The Incendiary,_" Wraith grinned. "I supposed since she's liable to explode someday, given that every other ship I've owned has suffered the same fate, I may as well give her a name fitting of her destiny."

"Every other ship you've had has exploded? Every single one?" Levianath couldn't help but laugh.

"Too many to count on one hand, aye."

"How?"

"Various reasons, however my favorite was when I turned _The Leviathan_ into a bomb. My _favorite_ ship, and I sacrificed her for the upper hand in a Saltsprocket row." He shook his head nostalgically.

"How long has this fight between you and the Saltsprocket been going on?"

"Half a decade, give or take. Before the Saltsprocket, it was Yij'ua laborers, and long before them, it was Burning Blade. I came from the Burning Blade camps." He tapped his nose once humorously. "Great fun, slave camps, no?"

"The best," Levianath retorted sarcastically.

Wraith chuckled warmly, then glanced behind himself and beckoned a nearby sailor over.

"Halma," he greeted her, and she sent him a loyal salute. He gestured one arm in a sweep across the ship. "Round up the big ten for me, please, and instruct the rest to watch the ship once we make port."

Halma sent him a nod, and took off down the ship.

Darkrunner spent the rest of the time steering and maneuvering the ship into port, docking perfectly, and helped his workers anchor the ropes to the harbor. Fiammetta met up with Levianath sometime through the process, as did Reece and Julian, both of whom looked like they'd just woken up. They probably had.

Darkrunner paid the docking fee to the Goblin harbormaster, then led his crew, a sum total of fifteen when Levianath, Fiammetta, Reece, and Julian were included, off through the night-fallen town. Wraith's people were an entertaining sight to behold; a collection of Orcs, Trolls, Blood Elves, Humans, and one Dwarf all walked together in unison, just friends enthusing about the town to which they clearly were glad to have returned. Such an odd mixture, fun to see them harmonizing. It'd been the same on the ship, but on dry land, for some reason it made it even better.

The sheer number of Goblins in this place gave Levianath the heebie-jeebies, and he kept having to remind himself that they weren't the same ones who'd beaten him to submission countless times in the camps. Goblins may be short, he thought to himself, but they're hardy, violent, terrifying little creatures when determined, and should very much not be underestimated, especially in large numbers.

They crossed the entire town, drawing into a less-illuminated district where the buildings were half-underground and domed. The sandy streets felt gritty under their boots, and the air dried their noses, the only relief being that of a dusty wind that blew between buildings, though Levianath was unsure of whether the breeze was much of an improvement, really. Despite the town being smack dab in the middle of a desert, the temperature had dropped drastically in the past half hour since docking, and it actually began to feel somewhat uncomfortably cold.

Suddenly Captain Darkrunner turned a sharp left and descended a flight of stairs into an underground building, large and remote. Everyone followed behind him, and Levianath nearly startled at the sudden loud voice that erupted in greeting.

"And the Raiders have arrived! Captain, how fared the trip?" The voice's owner came into view, recognized as Raphael Amaranth. A second later, Wraith and Raphael shared a generous hug and a hefty pat on the back, like old friends.

"Not too many surprises," the captain glanced once at Reece, and then smiled at Raphael broadly.

Raphael nodded, his mouth curving in his own version of a smile, accented by the tapered curl of his mustache. His green eyes set Levianath off a little. The man, although Levianath had met him before, was too sly, too cunning, despite his friendliness. Levianath couldn't bring himself to feel completely at ease around him.

"Come," the Rogue requested. "We're all set up in here. You're just in time; I believe we're on our way to finalizing a course of action with these slavers."

Darkrunner and the others followed Raphael into a smaller, dining-room type area with a large, oblong table in the center, which looked to be created from one giant slice of tree stump stacked on slightly less-giant logs. It was sturdy, but massive, and took up nearly the entire room. Levianath recognized two people immediately, Julian's parents, who didn't look up from where they and a third green-haired Night Elf scrutinized a large hand-drawn tactical map of what he guessed was the slave camp.

Near them sat a collection of who looked to be a few of Raphael's guild officers, most of them somewhat bad-ass-looking women; they all wore identical silver and green tabards, and were watching what Norivana was doing and saying as well as sharing sparse words among each other.

Last in the line of people sat a man who looked far too out-of-place. A green-skinned Goblin, he stood out like a sore thumb against the elves and humans. His large steel-toed boots rested upon the table, ankles crossed, and a decorated, lit pipe jutted out of one side of his wide mouth. His taut face was taller than most Goblins, somewhat wolfish, with his hooked nose and broad, heavily-stubbled jaw and chin. His brows arched intensely, and his eyes held a permanent, devious fire above his sharp cheekbones. His large, pointed ears were heavy with golden piercings, and his sable-toned hair, which there was a lot of, was pulled into a tight, low tail at his neck.

The Goblin, once he saw Captain Darkrunner walk in behind Raphael, took the pipe from his teeth and lifted it up toward the man. "Well, if it isn't Dynamite himself," the man grinned. His voice was just on the verge of being gravelly, almost gruff, not like the usual Goblins' raspy squeak, and when the guy had lifted the pipe, his shirt sleeve had pulled back to reveal that this guy was definitely _not_ a normal Goblin. Unlike the near-baldness of most Goblins, this guy's arms rivaled with those of Dwarves.

As Julian greeted his own parents, the captain walked to the Goblin and stole his pipe, inspecting it curiously as he spoke. "You know I hate that name, Fleek."

"You just hate it because I'm the one who gave it to you. Blow up any more ships recently?" Fleek reached one bulky arm up and stole the pipe back, throwing it between his teeth again.

"Not since last we were working together," the captain retorted.

The Goblin made a wounded gesture. "Never heard anything so sad in my life."

Wraith lifted a brow and shrugged. "Without you there to fuel it, my pyromania tends to extinguish. Quite sad, really. Haven't burnt off my eyebrows in far too long."

"So maybe next time you feel like kicking me off your crew, keep that in mind," Fleek's tone was teasing as he blew out a puff of white.

The pirate captain fanned the cloud away. "I didn't kick you out; you ran off to Amaranth's guild once you learned his uncle bit the dust."

The Goblin grinned satirically. "I know." His eyes flicked past the captain to Levianath, and he stared a moment before smirking, speaking to Wraith again. "He looks more like you than you do."

Darkrunner gave a partial eyeroll and returned his attention to Fiammetta and Levianath, who were standing to the side of the table. The rest of Darkrunner's people had taken places around the large table and were engaging the Shrouded Serpent members in conversation.

"My son, Levianath Darkrunner."

"Like the ship?"

"Like the ship."

"I like it," Fleek grinned.

A moment passed.

"Fiammetta, you remember Fleek," Darkrunner said in a joking tone, just a bit too saccharine for Levianath's taste, and Levianath let his eyes flick between the two.

Fiammetta sent Fleek a partial smirk, though her eyes looked about to catch him on fire, and not in the good way. "Mm. If only I could say the opposite."

Fleek let out a vibrant laugh, still not having removed his feet from the table, and gave the woman an obvious wink. "Haven't forgotten you either, dimples." His teeth bit against his pipe playfully.

The half-elf made a mental note that Fiammetta had no dimples - at least, not on her face - and he inhaled ever so slightly, feeling a pang of uninvited jealousy. Fiammetta pursed her lips in mild annoyance, her stare boring holes in the side of the Goblin's head as he began to chat again with Darkrunner.

"History here?" Levi wondered humorously to her in a low tone.

Her eyes simply narrowed as she kept them on the Goblin. "Oh, yes. We have history."

"Didn't end well, I take it?"

"No."

"How come?"

"It didn't start well, either. Only time we could play nice was when we weren't wearing clothing."

Levianath made a face, groaning. "Fia, no."

She smirked and glanced at him. "What?"

"You truly have a type."

She thought a moment, and then began to laugh. "Care to know the difference between the two of you, though?"

He lifted his brows, trying his hardest to keep mental images from surfacing. If he ever wanted to like this Goblin, he had to keep control of his imagination.

Fiammetta smirked. "Difference is, I actually _like_ you."

He snorted a laugh in response. "Matter of fact, that does make it a little better."

She looked to respond, but suddenly Lucian Silverpaw's voice carried through the room.

"_Married?!_" the man blurted, clearly surprised, and Levianath observed humorously.

Julian and Reece were grinning, and Norivana had begun laughing.

"What is it with Silverpaws and eloping, really?" the green-haired, bespectacled man with them laughed.

Norivana, still chuckling, sent Lucian a teasing glare. "I blame _you_."

"Hey, I'm not the one marrying our children off. It's entirely them."

She smirked and poked him in the ribs playfully and he chortled laughter in response, which Levianath thought was somewhat entertaining; these two elves were so _not_ normal elves. Or parents, for that matter. They hadn't even reacted to Julian's marriage how Levianath had thought they should.

Norivana turned her attention toward Julian again. "Can't I attend a normal, real wedding for _one_ of my offspring? Finnian is my only hope, now, unless Nyela and Sarion finally tie the knot..."

"Well," Julian smiled, glancing at Reece beside him. "We could probably go for a real ceremony after this is all over."

"Yeah, definitely!" Reece smiled back. "That would be fun!"

"Oh, good!" Lucian enthused. "We haven't had a wedding in our orchard in ages."

Norivana clapped her hands together excitedly, and Levianath saw Raphael step in humorously and clear his throat.

"Now we simply determine who wears the dress and who the tux, yes?"

Julian glanced at Reece with a raised brow. "Well, I can't picture her in a dress, so that'd have to be me."

"Ahah!" Raphael exclaimed excitedly. "I knew it all along! She's a she! Can't fool everyone!"

Norivana looked even more excited, now. "So this means grandchildren, yes? I demand more grandchildren."

Levianath's brows pinched together; the woman hadn't taken more than half a second to register Reece's true gender and seemed entirely unsurprised, and same with the giant white-haired husband of hers. Perhaps they'd known it all along.

Finally, Captain Darkrunner cut in before the conversation could escalate further. "So, back to the whole 'planning-out-the-Saltsprocket's-demise' thing we were doing..."

"Right," Norivana said enthusiastically, her mouth forming a devious smile as her eyes flashed determinedly. "We have a plan, and it's going to work."


	21. Precipice

**Woot! Guys, this story's so close to the end, but there's SO MUCH yet to come. :O**

**Responses:**

**Zarabethe: Aha, yes! Reece will eventually be Reece Silverpaw, once they remember that that's a normal thing that people do. xD I like that you picked up on that. And Julian in a wedding dress must happen. You know he'd do it, too, just for kicks. **

**Willowstar: Poor parents. xD They're apt to dragging Julian and Reece back with them right now and holding a ceremony. Bwahhaa.**

**Kintaraheart: Myesss! Draw all of ze children! I must see them! :D**

**Chelinka: OH YES THE SADS ARE COMING. Maybe. Depends on what you readers get sad about and what it takes to make it all better. :S**

**Ophianara: Bwaha, Raphael tends to draw that sort of 'nervous' reaction from most. He's just so shifty. :P **

**Suneeku: Myesss, haha, Fleek stirring up trouble. He doesn't get much in this chapter but he'll have his spotlight before this is all over. :D**

* * *

_Lily_

* * *

As she climbed out of her evening bath, Lily uncapped a small vial of oil and dripped some into one hand, then smoothed it over her skin. Duncan had supplied her with sweet lavender oils and soft silks to stave the feeling of living in a desert, and she knew she couldn't thank him enough.

She dried off with a soft, plush towel and leisurely ran a comb through her hair, then changed into comfortable, cool, loose pants and a sleeveless soft white top.

With impeccable timing, Duncan waltzed into her room. The man wore finer clothes now than when he was a worker, though only by a fraction. She had no idea what he did all day to make him look like he'd just curled into a ball and thrown himself down a dirt hill, but every day, no matter what, he left clean and returned a dustbunny.

She stood to greet him, beaming at him cheerfully, and his eyes gleamed as they fell on her pearly smile. He approached her boldly, running his knuckles softly along her shoulder and one arm, and he let his eyes fall shut a moment as he took a deep breath of her scent.

"Lily flower," he purred at her. "Come, we will go to the water."

"But I just bathed-"

He gave her a daring look, a hint of challenge, and pressed a finger to her mouth. "Come."

She smirked back and in defeat placed her hand in his open one. He braided his fingers into hers, and the two exited the fort. Despite the sun nearing the horizon, many of the workers wouldn't be back for another fifteen minutes, and the camp was somewhat desolate compared to what it would be soon. Only half the number of people were there that would normally occupy it.

Duncan took her down to the surf, and she let it reach halfway up her calves, her feet burying themselves into the wet, sparse sand. The air felt moister than its usual dry heat, and she inhaled deeply, enjoying the fact that it didn't parch her throat.

Duncan drew her in against himself, arms wrapping around her front and hugging her back to his chest, burying his face in her neck.

They remained there for a few quiet moments before Lily tilted her head to the side to grant him more access, watching the light of the sunset fading in the sky as she spoke up finally.

"Have you decided upon what you're going to do about the camps in Stranglethorn? The ones that were ransacked and ruined?"

"They were all ransacked and ruined," he murmured in his resonant tone. "I do not care about camps an entire continent away. Let them burn. I have the best and biggest right here under my control."

"But what if the pirates that got those camps come here?"

"Then that will have been their final mistake."

Lily smiled, cozying in closer to him. He tilted his head inward and pulled her chin to him, wrapping his lips around hers intensely as his other hand gripped her flush against him. Lily still blushed every time he kissed her, because he never did anything half-assed, romance included, nor did he care about the four bodyguards watching from ten feet away.

His almost painfully-sharp teeth bit into her lower lip and tugged as he turned her around, lifted her up, and took her into the water to swim, regardless of their states of being fully-clothed.

They swam and enjoyed the cool water, ducking under large waves and avoiding sharp coral outcrops. Duncan didn't let his hands off of her for more than five seconds at a time, which she did not mind one bit. She liked his touch. It gave her a thrill she couldn't find anywhere else.

Eventually they left the water, and Duncan kept her and his bodyguards close-by as they made their way back through the camp. The workers were returning back for the night, all of them clearly exhausted, and the only thought in Lily's mind as she passed them was one of relief, relief that she was not among them anymore. A streak of pride hit her when she noted how the bodyguards beside her had once been in a position of power over her, and now she could tell them to do whatever she so pleased.

One bedraggled worker she passed looked about to croak; his mouth was chapped disgustingly, and his eyes drooped. "I need...water," he stumbled up to Lily and fell to his knees in front of her, hands reaching toward her. She startled back a single step, managing to avoid his outstretched hands, and the bodyguard closest to her pushed her aside with one elbow and grabbed the slave by the collar, forced him up to his feet, and then tossed him away, where he hit the ground and stayed there.

Not a second later, though, Duncan had let a growl rip through his chest and snapped, grabbing the bodyguard by the throat and crushing his neck with his bare hands so suddenly that the man hadn't had a chance to defend himself. Lily startled again, watching as Duncan's grip tightened until a sick crunch caused the struggling man to fall limp in Duncan's hand. Duncan threw the body aside with a grimace, and Lily swallowed back her surprise.

No one did a thing in response, and the remaining three bodyguards held no reaction or expression.

Lily glanced at the body. "Why'd you kill him?"

Duncan's silvery grey eyes flashed darkly. "I don't care if he's your guard. _No one_ touches what's mine. Let him be an example."

Lily stared at the dead man, then was forced to keep walking when Duncan's large, hot hand wrapped around hers and pulled her forward. She fell into place beside him, thinking over what had just happened. Duncan had reacted violently, sure, but it was for _her_ sake, so she should feel grateful. The guard _had_ pushed her a little, and maybe Duncan had acted the way he had in concern for her safety.

Yes, that was it.

When she was with Duncan, she was sure of one thing: she felt definitely, assuredly, safe.

* * *

_Julian, approximately 1 month later._

* * *

Just five days had been spent in Gadgetzan, and then the leaders of the whole operation (Norivana, Raphael, and Darkrunner) had all agreed to move the party southward, to get out of the city. So, in the following few weeks, they had set up an entire encampment along the rocky, secluded beaches on the southeastern end of Tanaris, just miles from where Raphael said the slave camp lay. A perimeter of various wards and fences had been placed around the camp to keep out the basilisks, buzzards, and bandits, and two more ships from Darkrunner's fleet had arrived, bringing both Shrouded Serpent and Bloodmoon members. They had a good army now, a solid ten dozen people. The slave camp had no chance against them, and now all they were doing was timing their upcoming attack.

Julian, whenever he found himself alone with his thoughts, always returned them to the slave camp, and how close they were to it now. Lily was only miles away, so close, yet so far. He could only hope that, for one, she was okay, and two, she wasn't what he feared she was. She couldn't be a taskmaster, couldn't have taken a job in which she subjects other people to inhumane labor.

That just wasn't like her. And if she _had_ done something like that, he wasn't sure how other people might take it. He knew she'd be allowed back into the tribe; his father wasn't cruel enough to banish his daughter's childhood friend, but she would suffer some sort of consequence for making the choice she had, possibly not even from the tribe leaders, just from people like himself, or people who might judge her harshly. He could only hope it wouldn't be too bad.

Anyhow, other than the Lily issue, Julian had to admit that this month, despite him being away from home and under the stress of preparing for an offensive invasion, had been one of the best of his life. He'd spent all of his free time with Reece, as per usual, and it'd just been a magical time for both of them. Neither of them could have asked for a better honeymoon. They had friends, family, and enough excitement for a lifetime.

Not only that, but Julian had been thrilled to see Glenn Verdell with his parents upon arriving in Gadgetzan, and he and Glenn had worked the entire month on developing precise, pin-point-accuracy sniper-rifle-like guns that could be mounted on ships, as well as creating various types of explosives, cannonballs, and bullets with the help of Fleek Goldwell, the sassy, loudmouthed Goblin from Raphael's guild (and previously, Darkrunner's).

Norivana was, of course, the mind behind the big invasion, given her history in the military as well as her involvement in several different wars and operations over the years. She had assigned different groups to different tasks, and would be coordinating everything once the point of conflict arrived.

Currently, Julian, Fleek, and Glenn were working in the shelter of a thick, sturdy tent, and Julian was installing a sniper scope onto one of the guns. It was delicate work, but really quite easy now that he'd gotten the hang of it.

He spoke with his mentor as he worked, threading a tiny bronze filament between two spokes, which ultimately would attach to a gauge that allowed for focusing the lens. "How's your daughter, by the way?"

"Zinnia? She's great. Knows about ten words," Glenn smiled fondly, his thick magnifying spectacles on his nose making his eyes slightly larger than they should be. They slipped down his nose, and he pushed them back up before speaking again. "Her hair's green now. She was born with black, but it sort of...switched colors."

"That's really cool," Julian grinned back genuinely. "I can't wait to have kids."

Glenn smiled happily, pausing his work. "You and Reece planning for a little one already?"

"Well, we aren't really planning or anything, but I certainly wouldn't complain if it happened."

"Think you're ready for that?" Glenn's tone was merely curious.

"Probably not," Julian snickered. "But I love kids. Love them. And I would be delighted to have one of my own. If that's what life decides to throw at me, then I'll welcome it with open arms."

"That's a good stance," Glenn waggled the screwdriver in his hand once toward Julian.

Fleek, who'd remained silent until now, looked up from where he was stuffing black powder into a casing. "You people and your weird desire for offspring," he shook his head. "And here I thought the Alliance elves were all chaste prudes. You don't see many elf kids."

Julian chuckled. "You should see our orchard, then. They're swarming there."

Fleek lifted a single brow at the boy, somewhat skeptical, and then returned to his work.

Julian smiled, finishing up the scope he was on before standing from his seat and patting Glenn nearby on the shoulder. "I'm out for the night, then, Glenn."

Glenn reached over and shook the boy's hand warmly. "Thanks for the help, bud. Ever need anything, you know where to find me," the green-haired gentleman smiled genially, pushing his magnifying glasses back up his nose.

Julian thanked him and set off to find Reece. To be honest, all this talk of youngsters was getting to him, and he'd decided to bring it up to her. After all of this was over, there were so many different options as to where they could live together, and a few of those options gave opportunity for starting families. He wanted to know what her take on the idea might be, and whether she'd agree to it or not. If she didn't, fine, but if she did... he couldn't quite contain his excitement at the thought of that.

He passed two large, surrounded bonfires, which had been lit at sunset, though now the only light in the sky filtered from stars and the waxing moon, and the flames of the fires illuminated broad halos around themselves in otherwise pitch black night.

He found her finally by listening for the sound of her unique laughter, which he followed into a healers' tent. Upon slipping inside, he found not only her, but also Levianath and Fiammetta. When Reece saw him, her face gained a look of some sort of anxious joy.

"Hey," he smiled at her. "I was wondering if we could go somewhere to talk-"

"Julian," she cut in, still grinning.

"What?"

Her smile widened, dimpling her freckled cheeks. "I have something to tell you."

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

When Reece had come to Levianath and Fiammetta, they'd been sitting at one of the bonfires, engaging a conversation with a few crewmembers. She'd seemed worried, and whispered something in Fiammetta's ear that made the Troll's entire demeanor switch from relaxed to surprised. Fiammetta had immediately stood and took off beside the girl, and Levianath, curiously, had gotten up and followed to see what they were up to.

Upon reaching the healers' tent, Levianath had become worried. Was someone sick, or wounded? Someone they knew, maybe? Who was here in the tent?

But then, all the two women did was beeline to a healer and speak with him, and Levianath, unsure of whether or not he himself should be with them, stood off to the side and watched from afar. Fiammetta was the one to ask questions, and after a minute or so, the woman turned to Reece, beaming, and gave her a hug, and Reece laughed aloud.

Levianath took this as a sign he was permitted to approach, and he did so. "What's going on?" he asked hesitantly, eyes flicking between Reece and Fiammetta.

Reece, beaming, opened her mouth to speak, but at the same time, her eyes glanced behind him and brightened. Levianath turned and saw Julian entering the tent with a vibrant smile. Levianath was still curious as to what it was Reece and Fiammetta had just discussed, and his ears perked when it sounded like Reece was about to tell Julian about it.

He watched as Reece took Julian's hand and led him a ways to the side, in more privacy, and he and Fiammetta both stared at the couple. Levianath folded his arms.

"What's this all about?" he wondered aloud.

"Watch and see," Fiammetta replied, still observing the young couple.

Levianath stared at Julian and Reece, and after a moment he couldn't help but chuckle at the sudden look of anticipation on Julian's face halfway through Reece's little speech.

The second Reece finished her words, Julian's face transformed from excitement to pure exuberance, and he let out a cry of happiness and swept Reece up into his arms, lifting her right up off the ground, both of them laughing loudly. As soon as Julian set Reece on her feet, he jokingly dropped to his knees and pressed the side of his head against her stomach, wrapping his arms around her and speaking animatedly. Levianath couldn't understand what the boy was saying from this distance, but he could tell it was fairly hilarious, whatever it was.

Then, suddenly, it all hit him, and he felt stupid for not realizing it earlier.

"Holy-!" he breathed, air leaving his lungs in one big whoosh, and he put his hands to his head.

Fiammetta's laughter beside him drew his eyes, and she observed him playfully. "Figured it out, I take it?"

"She's _pregnant?"_

Fiammetta's smile lit up her entire face, and she gave him a confirming arch of her brows. Levianath let one hand fall against his mouth as he continued to stare at the young couple in surprise. An intense flood of unexpected affection swelled within him in seeing how truly, truly happy the two of them were with one another. In a time like this, when everyone was preparing for what was basically a miniature war, these two always found some way to bring more joy to combat the hardship.

Levianath also marveled at how 'together' Julian's life was, how confident and positive the young man seemed about everything. He threw himself at life, took chances - or giant leaps, more like. Where Levianath would've practiced caution, Julian acted impulsively. Levianath couldn't judge him for rash action because he too was prone to doing drastic things on a whim, and the difference was that for Julian, his choices actually worked out well.

For eighteen years old, Julian certainly had his head on straight. As of now, he had his whole life set out before him. Levianath didn't even know what he himself would be doing in a week.

He watched as Julian had stood back up and wrapped the freckled girl into his arms joyfully. He looked happier than Levianath had ever seen him, which was saying something.

Julian and Reece finally walked excitedly back over to Fiammetta and Levianath, their hands interlocked.

Levianath offered them a partial smile, his brows slightly upturned. "Congratulations?"

Julian looked hardly able to contain himself, and he released what was basically a childish, half-subdued giggle, which made Reece giggle, and then Fiammetta followed suit.

Levianath laughed, too, at their goofiness. "When are you thinking about announcing?"

Julian glanced at Reece. "Well, we should probably keep it on the down-low for a while. You're only...what did the healer guy say? A few weeks?"

Reece nodded. "Give it a month or so."

Levianath nodded. "I'll keep my mouth zipped, then."

Julian glanced between Levianath and Fiammetta, donning an impish grin. "So, now it's you guys' turn. Our kids can grow up together!"

Levianath actively cringed, and Fiammetta snorted ridiculously, both of them at the same time shaking their heads and responding with an identical "No."

They shared a short glance, smirking, and Levianath finally spoke. "No, we'll leave the whole 'kids' thing to you two."

"But Fiammetta _loves_ babies," Reece teased them both, nudging the Troll woman on the arm.

Fiammetta looked visibly uncomfortable, but she did offer a smile. "How about you just let me babysit yours once in a while instead."

Reece grinned. "Fine, fine." She glanced between the Warlock and the Troll playfully, obviously knowing how uncomfortable her words made them, and then took Julian's hand and tugged him along with her out the tent with nothing more than a fleeting, happy farewell.

Levianath turned to Fiammetta, and the two shared a few seconds of hesitant looks before they both burst into silent laughter, and Levianath had to turn away from her just to find his composure.

He finally looked back at her sideways, wagging one finger at her. "No kids allowed, Fia. You'd better not replace my potions with sugar water."

She eyed him teasingly. "Too late, already did it, and now you're trapped."

"You're right," he smiled at her, drawing her in with one hand at her hip as he embraced her in his arms. "I am entirely, completely trapped."

She grinned at him, lips pulling across her tusks. "And to think, a few months ago, you'd have run away screaming at the thought."

"The thought of what exactly?" he smiled at her, brushing her nose with his, but refraining from a kiss for the moment. He honestly didn't care that they were standing publicly in the middle of the healer's tent. Any chance he might steal a kiss from this woman, he'd take it.

"The thought that you might fall for me," she replied. "And that I might fall for you."

He brought his face back a single inch, meeting her gaze, studying her stare. "What are you saying?"

She blinked softly at him, her blue eyes deep enough he might drown. "I'm saying that we're entirely in over our heads with whatever's happening between us. I know you feel it, too."

His heart fluttered. This was the first time she'd actually, legitimately hinted that she thought there truly held something of value, a future, for them, and it both terrified and excited him.

He was unsure of what to say in response; his mind was jumping all over the place, and the only thing he knew of for sure right now was that he wanted to keep her right where she was, wrapped in against him. He tilted in and caught her lips in his, cupping one side of her face and wrapping his other arm around her waist tightly. She kissed him back enthusiastically, smiling into his kiss.

A moment or two passed, and Levianath broke away a moment, smirking at her. "You didn't really replace those potions, though, right?" he smirked at her teasingly.

"Hell no," she retorted in her rough, now somewhat playful tone.

He laughed and kissed her again sweetly.

* * *

It wasn't long before the day came in which it appeared everything was in place. Raphael, Norivana, and a few of the Shrouded Serpent people had, a few days earlier, set off in the middle of the night and spied on the camps, and they'd returned detailed maps of the layout. The central 'fortress', which was actually just a half-crumbling old military garrison made of hard stone, was surrounded on all sides by housing units for the slave drivers, and beyond those lay the slave tents. Finally, encompassing the entire massive camp, was a wall of stone with only one single entrance, save for the side where the camp transitioned into rocky mountains and cliffs, as well as another open area that led straight to the sea.

Guards reportedly covered the area like vermin, dotting along the tops of the walls with ranged weapons and stationed every few yards. They would be the big challenge here; it was a massive encampment, and the guards' numbers verged on a couple hundred, easily, with the number of workers possibly doubling that.

Darkrunner had concluded that the cannons on his ship could take out the side of one wall, which would allow for less of a bottleneck effect when entering the camps. This had, however, brought up another issue of how to destroy the camp without hurting the innocents inside, and after some brainstorming they'd come up with an idea: those trained in the arts of stealth could sneak in first and smuggle out the slaves at the same time as Darkrunner's pirates, who'd been practicing with Julian's sniper guns, would take out the guards high up on the ramparts. Lucian Silverpaw had come up with the idea to connect a portal between their own makeshift barracks and the slave camps, which could serve to quickly and efficiently bring the innocents to safety. Seeing as the slaves were helpfully placed on the outskirts of the fort, it was predicted that they could be escorted out without raising any alarms.

Then would come the point of actually invading.

It was predicted that Raphael's highly-trained members would be enough to effectively wipe out the camp, but Darkrunner's would remain as a second wave of backup. Better to be overprepared than to underestimate the enemy.

Once Raphael's people had made it far enough away from the wall, a signal would be given in the form of a flare for the cannons to fire, and then would come the pirates. The big fortress would be last, where they would hopefully find Lily as well as arrest the leader of the camp to subject him to judgment. The man would most likely end up imprisoned for his crimes.

Or, in Levianath's perfect world, dead. That was wishful thinking, though.

Right now, Levianath was rolling up spell scrolls and enchantments, tying them, and stacking them in one corner of his tent. He'd been given a large collection of regulated Warlock spells from his father, and although he hadn't informed a single soul about his boost in power from the now-banished demon, he felt confident in himself, truly, for the first time ever. He knew he could hold his own in a fight, knew so many new spells and abilities and even ways to heal himself and other people. He'd learned the art of soul-preservation and how to control the living energy of other creatures. He could siphon it for himself, transfer it to others, or simply snuff it out, if he so pleased.

His power was his own, which was the best part. He was entirely in control, and had lost the feeling of insecurity and danger looming over him everywhere he went. He knew he could protect the people he cared about, and that gave him peace.

He blew out a candle by his comfortable cot and relaxed into it. He could probably visit Fiammetta tonight, but he knew she'd been training with Darkrunner all day today and was most likely exhausted. She and Wraith worked mostly with dual-wielding short-swords and daggers and light armor, but the way they actually fought was like that of a Warrior: intense, berserking, giving everything they had. They threw themselves into a fight violently, confidently, and the few times he'd seen them sparring, it'd scared him how quickly they attacked, deflected, and dodged one another's attacks. Harnessing the speed of Rogues with the power and mindset of Warriors, they were forces to be reckoned with.

Now, Julian, on the other hand, hadn't the first clue of fighting, and Levianath was fairly sure neither he nor Reece would be allowed to participate in the fight. They might be good at wrestling and the occasional mild healing spell here and there, but neither had the power nor the mental fortitude to kill people. Julian, for goodness' sake, had never witnessed death, and didn't need to change that now. Levianath predicted that the two of them would be made to remain behind and tend to the slaves coming through the portal.

Levianath closed his eyes, willing sleep to take him. They would attack tomorrow evening, as long as the plans held true. He was just glad that they would take these slavers out once and for all.


	22. Plunge

**So... Y'all like cliffhangers? BECAUSE I HAVE ONE FOR YOU.**

* * *

**Responses:**

**Psalty: Ahahha ohh I can't say a thing about Lily...**

**Suneeku: Don't die! Noo!**

**Willowstar: Unf. The struggle is so real. They aren't even mentally prepared to find somewhere to settle down. xD**

**LadyRaftina: Omg! For some reason I thought I'd already responded! Soon as I get this published, I'll get right on that! :P And yes, that would be hilarious with Raphael. xD**

**Ophianara: Nailed it! Whoo wooo!**

**Kintaraheart: YESSSS, slightly dysfunctional elf hybrid army babies family! **

**Zarabethe: *flails helplessly* TOTALLY pulling a Zara. **

* * *

Julian had been unable to let Reece out of his sight. Even after she had fallen asleep against him, he gazed softly at her in a state of awestruck joy. Here was this amazing girl who he for some insane, incredible streak of fortune was allowed to call his own, his best friend, now his life partner, and the mother of his _child_. It'd all happened so quickly, one right after the other. He should've known that she'd get pregnant this soon; neither of them had been careful on that front, and everything else she did in life was done two hundred percent, so of course getting married would promise an extra family member.

Reece mystified him, blew him away. For an unfathomable reason, she'd picked _him._ Julian didn't consider himself a catch by any means, just a somewhat overemotional, half-trained engineer with laughable magical skills who functioned on blind, wild optimism (the likes of which the world had probably never seen). He'd never used a weapon in his life, didn't know the first thing about real-world issues, and yet she'd still picked him.

In all truth, he thanked Elune with every breath that this had all worked out the way it had. If one thing hadn't lined up the way it had, if perhaps it hadn't been Darkrunner's ship who found them that day, or if his parents had retrieved him earlier, he'd have never found Reece. He'd have never discovered the life he had now, and would most likely still be pining away for Lily's affection. And as much as he needed to save Lily, it was less due to the infatuation he'd once held for her and more now simply because she needed help; that she, as a person, needed saved, and he felt responsible for what had happened to her.

The past few months had given to him more happiness and more harmony than the rest of his life had altogether. He just prayed it wasn't about to all leave him, that this wasn't simply a dream and that he would wake up and find himself all the way back in the slave camps, having lost everything.

His troubled thoughts finally, after countless minutes he'd spent staring through the darkness, slipped into peaceful dreams.

Julian and Reece lounged about the next morning eating breakfast at a wooden table, watching the hustle and bustle around them as they nibbled their food. Neither of them had anything to do; they were informed somewhat firmly that they were _not_accompanying the raid, and that they would remain back with the other caretakers to help out with the liberated workers coming through portals that night.

So, the two of them watched as all around everyone strapped in their armor and weapons, stocked their bags, and rushed to their designated groups. There were still a few hours before the time would come for them to leave, but Julian supposed it was better to be ready early and then relax instead of rushing last-minute and then getting left behind.

He was staring off at two Rogues comparing daggers when he heard a slight 'scrape' of a utensil against ceramic plate, and he glanced at Reece only to see that she'd dumped all of her hobo potatoes onto his plate.

He simply smirked, but didn't touch them. He hadn't touched his own, for goodness' sake; they'd eaten potatoes any time they were on Darkrunner's ship, by their own doing. He was tired of potatoes. Apparently, Reece was, too.

He smiled at her, though, ignoring her not-so-sneaky actions. "So where do you wanna live when this is all over? I mean, what's your plan?"

The lanky, freckled teen shrugged, leaning on one elbow and twirling her fork through a pile of eggs and pork. "What are the options?"

"Endless," he smiled at her. "We could live in my father's orchard; it's probably the safest place to raise a baby. Or maybe we could find a place in Stormwind; I can make a living with engineering somehow, if I need to. We could buy a farm in Elwynn, raise some...sheep…" He trailed off, taking his plate and sneakily scraping all of the potatoes back onto her plate, which she clearly noticed but didn't react to. He continued, "We could move anywhere you want in the world. We could travel while we still can. Become nomads, join a pilgrimage to some new planet. Or we can stay with Darkrunner, but I don't think raising a baby on a Pirate ship is…smart."

Her eyes flickered warmly. "I like all of that. Let's do all of that." The potatoes then blatantly went back onto his own plate.

Julian grinned, laughing a little. "In what order?"

"Random."

He dumped the potatoes onto her plate. "Lovely plan." He took a big bite of his food.

She snickered, and as he glanced off to the side, he heard the potatoes switch places again. He saw Fleek Goldwell exit a nearby tent wearing almost a full set of leather armor, save for the armor that was supposed to cover his arms. Julian stared at the Goblin with an amused expression, swallowing down the bacon he was chewing before speaking up loud enough for the man to hear him.

"Isn't _arm_or supposed to cover your _arms_?"

The burly, scruffy Goblin turned his attention to Julian, his expression a wry smirk, and he flexed both boulder-like arms. The sight was intimidating. "Had to send some of my armor to the tanner to stretch it out a bit. Put on some pounds recently." He said it proudly.

Julian snickered, and then got an idea, speaking only to Reece next. "When I lose, you play winner," he grinned at her, and then returned his attention to Fleek. "Oh yeah? I'll bet you ten copper you can't beat me in arm wrestling."

Fleek let out a hearty laugh and walked over to his table, motioning for Reece to make room.

"Scooch aside, Black, I'm about to rob your boyfriend."

"Husband," Reece scooted over and beamed brightly. "I play winner!"

Fleek nodded and laughed, shrugging her off. He hadn't been on Darkrunner's ship recently enough to know that she just might beat him. The last time Fleek had known Reece, she'd been fifteen years old and probably not nearly as proficient in wrestling as she was now. As far as Julian knew, that is.

Julian rolled up his sleeve of one long, lanky arm, setting his elbow on the table and offering Fleek a flashy grin. Fleek's arms were literally twice as big around as Julian's, surprising enough for anyone, but even more so on a Goblin.

He gripped Julian's hand in his, and within five seconds of beginning the contest, Julian's knuckles hit the wood. He didn't want to admit he'd actually tried to win, but he had. The redhead let out a defeated laugh, and Fleek held out his hand in an expectant manner. Reece perked up and piped in.

"My turn, double or nothing," she grinned at the Goblin, her shaggy hair falling over her eyes.

Fleek for a second almost looked hesitant, like he didn't want to hurt her feelings by beating her. Julian snickered to himself, and the Goblin finally acquiesced.

"Alright," he said in his gruff tone. "I'll humor ya."

Reece hopped up from the table and sat across from him, beside Julian now, and took his hand in her own.

Julian gave the countdown, and when the battle started, he for a second thought that neither of them were doing anything, until he saw the tendons in Reece's inner arm jutting out, and the blood vessels on Fleek's arms beginning to rise. It was a direct stalemate.

Fleek gave a millisecond-flash of surprise written across his face before it was replaced with genuine respect. "Damn, cabin boy, you've gotten stronger."

Reece's grin stretched across her face, and Julian saw her shoulder begin to tense up. "And this isn't even my full strength, Goldwell."

"Lucky for me, it's not mine either," Fleek retorted, and Julian saw his outer arm swell as he pressed harder.

Reece donned a look of determination and bared her teeth in what could possibly be an attempt at a smile, or maybe just intensity.

Slowly, Fleek's hand began to descend toward the table, both of them starting to run out of stamina as their arms began to quake. Julian's grin widened as he saw Fleek gain a final look of panic before his arm gave, now only a mere centimeter from the table.

Reece made a sound of effort as they battled there, immobile, for a good fifteen seconds. Julian had to admit, at the angle of Fleek's arm, that was probably one of the most difficult and impressive things he'd ever seen in a contest like this. The man was so close to losing, and yet held onto a final thread.

Finally, the Goblin's hand crunched into the table, and Reece released him and threw both of her arms in the air victoriously, letting out a generous, whooping cheer.

Julian burst into laughter, and Fleek looked annoyed.

"Where in the blazes did you pull that strength out of, Black?" he shook out his arm, finally grinning at her. "And here I thought that the one who taught you to arm wrestle would never be bested by his student. You sure you don't have any Dwarf ancestry?" He reached across the table and ruffled her brown hair, then hopped off the seat, drew out a silver from his pocket, and set it on the table. "Keep the whole damn thing. You earned it."

The Goblin, shaking his head, shuffled off, and Reece let her long arms fall over Julian's shoulder, relaxing against him. He grinned down at her.

"You're so cool," he praised. "My pregnant wife just humiliated a Goblin pirate assassin in an arm wrestling contest."

Her husky laugh brought warmth to his heart, and then she spoke without moving. "There's your mom."

Julian turned his head toward where she was looking and indeed saw Norivana approaching. The woman wore a set of dark green leather, and her vibrant hair was braided back. When she reached their table, she sat down across from them, smiling a little. Her eyes flicked from Reece's to Julian's plate, and she clicked her tongue.

"Julian, you shouldn't neglect your potatoes."

Reece began to snicker uncontrollably, and Julian sighed, but said nothing in argument. He offered his mother a smile. "Hey Mom."

She smiled back at him. "Hello, Julian."

"What's up?"

"Just checking on you two, making sure there isn't anything you need before we all take off. The ships are leaving in thirty minutes, your friends included."

"That soon?"

"It's not like ships travel that fast," she commented. "It may take a while to sail to the location we have set up and to remain inconspicuous until we Rogues attack." A moment passed, and she lifted her brows. "So? Anything? Or are you two set here?"

The young couple both smiled.

"We're all set."

"Right as rain," Reece added.

"Good. Now as long as you stay put and don't do anything crazy, like catch the camp on fire, everything will be fine. Leave the pyrotechnics to that crazy Goblin." She smirked to herself, and reached across the table to steal one of Julian's potato pieces. She popped it in her mouth, then made a face.

"Who cooked these? They're _so_ salty!" she managed to chew it and get it down even so, holding an expression of slightly-disgusted humor. "Gotta be Orc cooking. I'd nearly forgotten what that was like…" The nostalgia on her face held a mixture between a grimace and a smirk.

Someone approaching caught her eye, and a second later, Julian's father joined her side, wrapping one arm around her waist habitually. Lucian glanced between Julian and Reece.

"Why is it every time I see the two of you, you look like you're five seconds away from pulling some act of grand mischief?"

"You know us too well," Reece chuckled happily, and the frosty giant smiled fondly at them both.

He glanced at Norivana, then Reece. "Mind if I steal my son for a moment? I'll give him right back, I promise. Just want to catch up."

Reece hopped up without hesitation, and Julian stood as well, watching Norivana and Reece walk off together. His father looped one giant arm over his shoulder, hugged him, and then let go and led him back to one of the large tents, speaking as they walked.

"Julian, you've been a stranger," he said, his tranquil voice coming off as warm and simply conversational. "I've been here with you for four weeks and haven't gotten more than ten words at a time. I miss my son."

Julian chewed his lower lip, smiling slightly, and let his eyes fall to his feet. "Sorry. I guess I've just gotten so caught-up in…everything."

"I understand," Lucian smiled. "Your wife and family should always come first. Marriage is a big commitment, and I'm sure you both have big plans for your futures. The timing was abrupt, but I cannot complain, given your mother's and my history. Your mom and I just miss you, that's all."

Julian smirked as Lucian held the entrance of the tall tent open for him to slip in as well. Half the time he interacted with his father, it consisted of bad jokes and roughhousing, but right now he wasn't feeling either, rather he felt a bit sentimental. He had to admit, he'd missed them as well. He cleared his throat. "So, Dad, I'm married now, and, well, you and mom seem pretty happy most of the time, so... Any advice for me? As a husband, as…a dad? You know, for the future?"

Lucian's eyes fell on his son's, and he smiled affectionately, his snowy beard stretching with the action. "You want some serious advice? I can do that."

Julian nodded as Lucian began sifting through a pile of papers and different runestones.

"Think of your marriage as a balance, a scale. You mustn't let either side become too heavy, or it'll crumble."

"What do you mean?" The young man leaned against the table.

"Share your joys, share your burdens. Don't ignore one another's needs, but definitely don't ignore your own either. Your help is only as strong as you are. I guess that's all common sense, though." Lucian finally found the stone he searched for, and he looked pleased. He slipped it into his pocket and motioned for Julian to walk with him again. "As for being a _father,_" he chuckled a little. "I can only hope that _your_ eventual children are not nearly as reckless and adventurous as mine have proven to be. If my hair wasn't already white..."

Julian grinned playfully. "Reckless and adventurous? Psh. Come on, it's not like I _tried_ to get enslaved."

Lucian's eyes flickered negatively at that last word, and he let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Bah. Slavers."

Julian cocked his head, waiting for his father to speak more.

Lucian glanced sideways at him as he walked. "When I discovered what had happened to you, that those wretched green bastards had taken my son…" His silver brows darkened. "I pray you never have to know what that feels like, the fear of losing a child, and the rage..." He sighed once and shook his head, and Julian could visibly witness the man burying the emotions that'd suddenly boiled up.

Julian's eyes dropped. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, no," Lucian's demeanor changed immediately in response, and he tugged Julian into a half-hug, then motioned to walk across the camp again. "It wasn't your fault, bud. I'm just bitter that those criminals received such easy deaths."

"Deaths?" Julian lifted a single brow. "You mean your team killed all of them?"

A single nod. "We had a procedure set up: capture, interrogate, execute. But only with the higher-ups. Generic guards and slave drivers were exiled. For the bosses, though, once we were done with their reports, Amaranth's Rogues did most of the dirty work. Then we burned every camp we left."

Julian blinked a few times, his tone holding a hint of relief. "That is incredibly satisfying to hear."

His father smiled, his white beard and mane accented by the sunlight. "Then it was worth it."

Lucian apparently reached where he was going, because he placed the runestone from his pocket onto an empty stand; they'd gone off to one side of the camp, an open, courtyard-like area which, until yesterday, was where the Rogues kept their practice dummies. Now it was just a large, open space.

Lucian secured the stone and then folded his arms, sniffing once in satisfaction. "That should do it. This is where the portal will be. That stone is my anchor; I'll be able to connect the two sides together with far less effort than what it would take going through the motions of reciting a page of specific spells."

Julian, without realizing it, mimicked his father, folding his own arms as well in the same fashion and standing nearly the same way. "Someday I'll be able to actually understand what you're talking about when you talk magic."

Lucian smirked in response, and Julian's eyes wandered. His expression brightened when he caught a glimpse of Levianath walking through the camp, somewhat far off. It looked like Levianath was headed toward the boats that would take him out to the ship, and Julian wanted to at least see him off.

His father caught the look on his face and laughed. "Go catch the man before he takes off. He was probably looking for you anyway."

Julian didn't require a second nudge, and he took off in a brisk jog after the Warlock.

Levianath had Pip'tai at his heel, daggers strapped to his waist, and a sleek set of black and silver spider-silk armor. He was pulling a slim pair of black gloves over his nimble fingers when Julian nearly stumbled into him.

"Are you leaving?" Julian panted a little overzealously, and Levianath clearly stifled a laugh.

"In about ten minutes, yes," he flexed his hands, pleased with how they fit. Julian knew one of the tailors here had been working on this armor for him nearly every evening for two weeks, and it was all sized perfectly and enchanted. The slender cloak over Levi's shoulders and down his back was protective, yet thin, and rippled smoothly with his movements. This had all been a gift from Fiammetta. Julian knew that although the two wouldn't let on, Levi and Fia were definitely a pair.

"Oh, okay," Julian nodded. "I just wanted to say g'bye. Also, your armor is cool. Which...you already know of course."

Levianath finally allowed a smirk. "Why thank you," he straightened up taller, boosted by the simple compliment. "And I'll see you tonight, given everything goes as planned and no catastrophes ensue." His dark brows arched once humorously.

"Well," Julian felt unnerved now for some reason. "Take care of yourself, don't get stabbed or anything, and be safe..." he trailed off, and then shoved a hand out to shake. "Um, I'll see you later."

Levianath actually released a snicker at Julian's sudden awkwardness and batted his hand aside. "A handshake? Really? If I die, do you want our last goodbye to be a freaking handshake?"

Julian pulled his hand away, a little sheepish. "Sorry, I donno, I just thought...Well, you never seem too enthused by my hugs."

"I'm teasing you," Lev rolled his eyes, and he dragged Julian into a bear hug. "I will be more than fine. Trust me on this." He patted Julian's arm with a gloved hand after releasing him.

"Okay," Julian let out a breath. "You're not allowed to joke about dying until after this is over though, cause you're family, and I love you, and yeah, so, you're not allowed."

Levianath's brows ever-so-subtly turned upward. He seemed to hesitate a moment, before he finally nodded and gained a hint of affection. "Family. Brothers. Has a nice ring to it."

Julian in response suddenly brightened and let a vivid grin stretch across his face. "Awesome. Alright, I'll see you when this is all over. Tell Fiammetta I said good luck, or something."

"You got it," Levianath retorted, and with nothing more, turned and swiftly walked toward where the pirates were collecting near the rowboats on shore, his cloak rippling with each step.

Julian hadn't noticed Reece there until she spoke. "Well, isn't that just the most adorable thing I've ever seen," he caught her smiling voice right behind him.

"And that's just the back. Wait until you see the front of me," Julian snickered without missing a beat and turned to greet her, eyes falling on her cheerful, freckled smile.

She gave a mock-surprised gasp when he turned, then looked thoughtful. "Nope, nope, turn around, I liked it better that way." She'd reached her arms out halfway through her words and tried to nudge him back around.

He let out a joyful laugh and snatched her into a teasing hold, which to some people could look like a hug. "I don't know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment."

She wiggled against his grip and somehow weaseled her way out easily, hopping just out of his reach. "Compliment. Always, for you, compliment. Songbird, we have a few hours to kill before anything good happens. I swiped our cards from Darkrunner's ship if you wanna play."

"Sure," Julian took a step forward, but suddenly found his feet yanked out from under him, and he saw Reece scuffling backward two feet away, having fallen as well in her attempt at tripping him. He heard her jovial giggle raise an octave as he made a face of determination, a half-smile mixed in, and scrambled to catch her.

But, she was on her feet quicker than he, and off she ran through the tents, her husky laugh disappearing with her.

Julian finally righted himself and sprinted off after the rascal he called his wife.

* * *

The two kept each other occupied in their tent for a couple hours before they emerged and headed off toward the location of the portals. A good collection of healers and those assigned to help organize the refugees were apparently headed there as well, and Julian and Reece were nearly lost in the flow. When they arrived it appeared that Lucian had not yet summoned the window, but everyone was preparing by creating a 'do-not-cross' perimeter of about four yards in diameter around the designated portal area, in which only a select few (Julian and Reece included) were allowed to cross it. Healers had potions and bandages at the ready to treat anyone who required aid, be it refugee, pirate, or Rogue.

Many of the people here seemed so stressed and anxious, though Julian and Reece were for the most part oblivious to the worry. Julian's only concern was that people he cared about would be risking their lives, but he believed in them all so strongly enough that it didn't bother him, not really. His faith in those headed to invade the camps was so strong that it overruled any trepidation he might feel, and the thought that by morning they would have saved all of these people was a wonderful thought. Not to mention taking out slavers, this entire group of them, once and for all.

Plus, they'd get Lily out of there, finally. It felt like it'd been a year since he'd seen her, and he knew that guess wasn't far off.

Basically, Julian and Reece were far too excited compared to the rest of the people there. Their expressions were cheerful, feeding off of one another, and they seemed to be mildly infectious to those around them.

Julian knew his father's portal would be here any time between now and an hour from now, but that didn't douse his enthusiasm one bit. He and Reece stood there inside the circle with a couple others whose names they'd never know but who had kind faces, and they all stood waiting. Julian couldn't help but fidget as he and Reece kept up the conversation, but then, suddenly, a shimmer appeared in the air before them.

Reece's hand grabbed Julian's for a single second, squeezing, and then she let go and shouted out for everyone to be ready for the portal.

The ethereal window glimmered into view, swirling, creating a warped image of the other side. Julian saw a flash of his father's white hair and felt his heart jump as he just now finally realized that this was all happening, that seconds from now, liberated Saltsprocket workers would be pouring into the campsite.

Sure enough, he saw an arm, followed by the rest of a body: it was a woman, thin, wiry, and bewildered, stumbling into view. Immediately, Reece was at the woman's side, speaking to her calmly, reassuringly, and very obviously right there using her magic to pacify the woman's panic. Reece handed her off to others just as soon as three more people piled through the portal, three more slaves, with dirtied clothing and grim, intense stares.

Everyone began to help out, and Julian and Reece ultimately ended up as the first two faces the ex-slaves saw upon teleporting. They offered soft smiles, calm words, anything to help these people not feel more alarmed than they already were. Julian could only begin to fathom the shock these people were feeling on having the slave camp raided, added to the stress of being rushed through a portal by unknown people with weapons.

The people seemed to come in waves, and between each wave, the portal would flicker, the image from the other side switching to something new. Julian supposed that his father was generating a new portal whenever they moved on to a new area.

The number of refugees began to wane after what felt like minutes but had to have been nearing an hour. Only a small collection of people who came through were injured Rogues, and their injuries were minor, only just bad enough to keep them out of the remainder of the fight.

The more people who came through, the more that Julian felt the urge to join his friends and family working on the other side. He felt a little useless here, despite the number of refugees thanking him as they came through. He knew he wasn't good enough to actually fight the slavers, but he really wanted to find Lily and get her out of there. He hadn't seen her yet, and he feared that if she really was a taskmaster there, she might end up on the wrong side of a blade against one of Raphael's Rogues or Darkrunner's crew. That thought mortified him. If he could get to her, he could convince her to come back. A familiar face, he could only hope, would bring her to her senses.

Suddenly, through the portal, appeared a familiar face, none other than his father. Lucian stepped through, speaking directly to Julian as soon as he caught sight of him.

"I think we've gotten all of the workers out. Your rifles did wonders against the ranged guards; I feel like this will all be painfully easy. Don't expect any more injuries coming through here. I can heal whoever needs it from here on out. As long as you're good here, I'm going to close the portal."

Julian nodded. "I think we're good here."

Reece, beside him, grabbed his arm as Lucian conversed with a few of the other healers in a hastened manner.

"I didn't see your friend Lily come through here," she said in a hushed tone.

Julian shook his head somberly. "She didn't."

"Let's find her," she urged.

"You mean go through the portal?"

"Yes, now!" Reece tugged his arm. "We need to find her before it's too late, before she gets hurt, given she hasn't been already."

Julian's brows lifted. He and Reece were thinking the same thing, and he was a little surprised at her eagerness to help out someone she didn't even know. Unnoticed by his distracted father, he stumbled along behind her, right through the portal and without a second thought.

This camp they stumbled into was massive, essentially an exact copy of the one Julian and Levianath had been in but multiplied in size tenfold, and with an added fortress in the center. Off in the distance he could hear the clashing of blades, and immediately Reece grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the portal.

"If your dad sees us here, we'll be forced to go back," she warned, and he nodded understandingly and followed behind her, ducking behind tents anytime they saw someone who might call them out. He could see on the ground were a few prone forms, what looked like dead bodies of the slavers, but he didn't dwell on them, didn't stare, didn't allow himself to confirm that that's what they were. He wasn't too upset that the slavers had met their end, but he sure as hell didn't want to actually _see_ them.

He saw his mother speaking with Raphael, both of them pointing off toward the stone fortress that towered up out of the sand and surrounding tents. He and Reece avoided their sight by dipping behind the now-empty slave quarters and sneaking around the edges of the camp.

"Where are we going?" Julian asked cautiously.

"If Lily is a taskmaster, she's off closer to the center, or most likely even in the fortress. We need to wait for the Rogues to make their way to the fort and clear a path for us."

"It sounds like they already are," Julian commented, the unmistakable sound of battle growing louder as they neared the center. The two of them had not come upon a single slaver yet, for which he was thankful, but it was also unnerving. He felt like someone could jump out at them at any second.

As if playing a perfect prank, someone actually _did_ then jump out in front of them, and they both startled back extravagantly. Levianath had, while releasing an explosive fire spell, stumbled into their line of sight up ahead, and their movement caught his eye. Julian and Reece attempted to dodge out of his field of vision before he caught them, but it was too late.

"Julian?" the man barked in surprise. "Reece? What the hell are you two doing all the way out here?"

He looked both energized and drained; he had dust and sand peppering his knees, dirt smudged on the side of his jaw, and his eyes held a bright fel fire. He ran to them, his imp following closely at his feet.

Julian fidgeted. "We're...gonna find Lily."

"Just the two of you?" the Warlock sounded strained. "On your own, against these people?"

"Well, we're gonna try to sneak-"

"By the void," Levianath put a hand to his forehead in exasperation, then gave them both a hopeless look, "I'm going to guess that telling you to return to camp is futile?"

Reece nodded fervently. "We're going to find her before we head back."

Levianath glanced off in a few different directions before finally looking back at them. "Fine. But I'm coming with you. You won't survive otherwise."

Julian grinned in relief, not only relief that Levianath had accepted this so easily, but that they had a little more protection.

Levianath, nothing more than a shadow in his dark, slim armor, beckoned them to follow, and so they did. Reece spoke as she walked briskly behind him.

"Any idea as to where she is?"

"These slavers' tents seem to house the guards and minor slave drivers. They're nothing against our Pirates. I haven't seen signs of Lily anywhere out here, and if she's being treated like a queen as was reported, our best bet is to enter that fortress and search there."

Suddenly, their path to the fortress was obstructed by a burly Goblin dressed in the telltale Saltsprocket slave driver garb. Without hesitation, Levianath launched out a barrage of shadow energy, and with the help of his imp, took the slaver out in a matter of a few seconds, knocking the green man entirely unconscious. Julian's eyes widened at this, and he stared at Levianath in awe. Whether this sudden increase in power was due to his enchantments or possibly his study of shadow magic over the past month, it came as a pleasant surprise.

The three kept going, repeating this pattern, with Levianath leading the trio and ridding them of any danger as he went. He never ran out of energy, rather his spells seemed to feed off of one another, becoming stronger and stronger as he went. Julian had never seen Levianath perform his magic this smoothly, this easily, and with this much power.

By the time they reached the fortress, a few of Raphael's people had already cleared out the entire first floor and had run down to the basement. Julian and the others ran a hurried sweep of the cleared floor, and Julian, by the time they finished and headed to the staircase leading to the second floor, couldn't cease the shaking in his hands and knees at seeing so many dead bodies here. These Rogues and pirates were not sparing a single life. If you were a slaver, you were dead, no questions asked. The sight of the dead was terrifying, the blood on the floor and the open wounds on these people's exposed forms. These slavers were all dressed in either half-donned armor or just plain clothing. They'd been caught off-guard, as it was now nighttime, and never stood a chance against highly-trained assassins.

As Julian followed behind Levianath up the stairs, he noticed that Levianath ignored not only the second floor, but also the third, vaulting straight up to the top floor.

"Why are we skipping levels?" Julian asked in a hushed tone.

"I don't know why, but I feel like I can sense her lunar magic, just like I can yours. It's strongest up here."

The three reached the top fully prepared to fight the guards they expected to be up here, but the floor was empty. They wasted no time running from door to door, splitting up. Reece ran off to the opposite end of the hall, to the largest set of doors, and began to pick the locks, as Levianath and Julian searched the other rooms.

From outside, the sounds of battle became so intense and rose so loudly that Julian felt like those fighting were right outside the open windows of the rooms. Roars of feral Druids could be heard amidst the clash of steel, and he heard one distinct roar that he knew was his father's. However, suddenly, a thunderous, ear-splitting bellow, the sound of a creature Julian had never heard before, reverberated through the building and shook the stone, causing dust to fall from the ceilings. The yells outside rose in volume in response.

Julian and Levianath met out in the hallway, both of them holding expressions of shock on their faces.

"What was _that_?" Julian exclaimed, eyes wide.

Levianath peered past Julian. "I have no idea. Are you alright?"

"I'm alright. Keep searching, we need to find her _now_."

Levianath responded with a nod. Each turned out to be empty, and Julian felt his enthusiasm waning with each barren room.

Suddenly, Reece's voice carried out, unmistakably excited. "Here!" she exclaimed abruptly, and Julian and Levianath both darted out of the rooms and jogged off toward Reece.

As they neared the room, Julian's heart lurched at the sound of Lily's voice. It was unmistakable; he'd recognize her voice even after this long without it. Part of him felt indescribable relief, and another part felt dread at the tone she projected.

"No!" Lily barked in an oddly-hysterical tone. "Stop!"

Julian burst into the big circular room, noting that it was well-decorated, with expensive furniture, and was quite large. On the far end was an open balcony, separated from the room with gauzy curtains. His eyes laid on Reece first, who was standing right in front of none other than Lily herself.

"Lily!" Julian exclaimed in relief, unable to hide the joy on seeing that she was alright. She looked more than alright, actually. Her skin was healthy and full of color, her expensive clothes were clean, and her vibrant blue hair was long and silky as ever. She looked as if she hadn't spent a day away from the orchard.

Her eyes fell on his in his exclamation of her name, but they seemed as if she were staring right through him.

"Julian," she said in recognition, but it sounded bitter. His brows tightened. He'd expected her to at least be a little pleased.

Levianath took a step toward her as Reece gently placed a hand on her arm.

"Lily," Reece said slowly. "Like I said, I'm Reece, a...friend of Julian's, and we're here to get you out of here. We have to go _now_. You're not safe. None of us are."

Lily sent Reece an appalled look and yanked her arm away violently. "And _I_ said I'm not coming with you."

Julian stepped forward a half-pace, speaking pleadingly. "Lily, it's _me_, it's Julian. We're here to save you. Nyela would be here too, if not for the children. You know," he spoke in a sarcastic tone, "your best friend since childhood, Nyela? The Nyela whose sons you babysit? That Nyela?"

"Duncan told me to stay here," Lily said a little quieter, speaking in short sentences. "You all need to leave. I don't want to come with you; you came too late."

Reece frowned and took Lily by the hand gently. "Lily, whoever it is who told you to stay, he doesn't matter anymore. You don't have to listen to him. Now come on, let's go; we're in danger."

Lily tried to pull her hand away, but Reece tightened her hold a little tighter and tried to tug, not obtrusively, just enough to get her point across that they needed to leave _now_.

Another deafening roar came from outside, and Lily's eyes widened in response. She fought against Reece a little more violently, her voice rising an entire octave.

"No!" Lily shrieked, and Julian and Levianath both lurched forward as the girl spoke again. "Get out! All of you! He said to stay, so I am staying here!"

"Lily!" Julian and Reece both exclaimed at the same time. Julian sent her a pleading look. "We want to help you!"

Lily scoffed. "No. Duncan is the only one who cares." She sent a glare toward Reece, who had only just now let go of her hand. "And _you_, keep your dirty hands _off_!" She reached out and shoved both hands hard against Reece's shoulders, hard enough to send the girl reeling backward into a desk behind her, resulting in a loud crash as she collided.

"No!" Julian barked out in sudden defensive anger at seeing the attack. "Don't hurt her!" He watched Reece closely for a few moments to make sure she was alright, torn between going to Reece or dragging Lily out of there. Clearly there was something wrong with Lily; why the hell would anyone want to stay here? Yes, she had a nice room and all, but what about her home in the orchard?

Reece remained there, awkwardly leaning against the desk, with her arm bent in front of herself in what looked like could be a defensive stance, in case Lily hit her again. Her expression remained stoic, somewhat serious, as her gaze bored into Lily, so Julian took that as a sign to keep his attention on the elf. Reece could look pretty intimidating when she wanted to.

"Lily Brightleaf!" Julian's volume heightened. "For crying out loud, _please_ come back with us. You don't understand, we've been trying to help you for ages! This was all for you!"

"You abandoned me," Lily spat back, folding her arms over her rib cage defensively and hunching her shoulders. "I _needed_ you and you _left me_ here. At least Duncan puts my safety at number one, while you were off doing gods-know what with your new friends," she bobbed her head toward Reece and Levianath once.

Levianath let out a frustrated growl, finally speaking for the first time. "Listen here," his tone flared up, "I don't know what you've had to endure here, but I know that Julian worried about you every single gods-damned day, and he's been trying to find a way to save you since the day we were all captured. So don't you dare insinuate for a single second that he's done something wrong, or that he abandoned you, or that he's done anything less than everything he possibly could to help you."

"I'm not going back with either of you." Lily's jaw tensed, her almond eyes glaring back at Levianath and Julian. "You are all but dead to me. You, and the rest of your tribe, who abandoned me when I needed you most."

Levianath tensed up in anger, taking a hard step forward, but Julian immediately stepped between them, placing a hand against Levi's chest defensively. "No," he said in a low tone. "Levianath, there's something wrong with her. She's not herself."

"Some people just change," Levianath growled back. "She's taken the wrong side. You want her out of here, you have to take her by force. She may never warm back up to you, Julian. Whoever this Duncan is, he's brainwashed her. It's been nearly a year."

Julian knew Levianath was right. He knew there was no way Lily was coming back with them willingly, and he knew that she'd never be the same. He felt his heart tug in remorse as he glanced back at the lovely elf, her beautiful face now so marred and ugly simply by the expression of hatred she held. He had no idea what had happened to make her hate him so much, to hate all of her old friends.

He stared at the ground a second beside Levianath's imp, and then finally returned his gaze to Levianath. He spoke in a quiet whisper. "Do you or Pip'tai have any pacifying spells? Something to make it easier to escort her out of this fort?"

"If by pacifying you mean knocking unconscious, yeah, we've got tons," Pip'tai put in from their feet, punching one fist into an open hand.

Julian winced internally, but then nodded. "We'll do what we have to. We've wasted enough time."

Levianath sent him a nod, and looked down at his imp. "I've got this, Pip."

Pip'tai grumbled to himself as Levianath flexed his hands a few times. However, right before Levianath made to approach Lily, a feeble sound came from Reece's direction, and Julian realized it was her voice.

"Julian?" Reece beckoned softly. "Can you...come here?"

His eyes whipped to her, and the sight before him made his heart nearly stop. Where she'd been holding an arm out in front of her stomach was now an enlarging splotch of dark crimson blood, staining her shirt and the belt of her pants. Before he could even think to react, Reece took a half step forward, which resulted in a sickly, slick metallic sound, and as her eyes fell on Julian's in a finalizing look of helplessness, she then crumpled to the ground.

Where she'd crashed against the desk, a bag of miscellaneous items lay half-open, with the sharp end of a dagger jutting straight outward.

The point of the long, thin blade glistened red, dripping on the floor.


	23. Tumult

**Hey all! Apologies for the late update. This chapter is all over the place. I've rewritten it too many times to count.**

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**Responses:**

**Jay: Reece is human. :) And hmmm, seems to be a theme there. Knives are no friend to my characters, for sure!**

**Ophie: Another person indeed..! Mwahaha. And ooh, hope your exams go well for you! Good luck, if they have not already happened, that is.**

**LadyRaftina: Noooope, not good! And your hopes may not be entirely without grounds!**

**Willowstar: Ahahah, how about ALL OF THEM DIE. Can you imagine, though, if I really did publish a story in which every main character just dies. o.O That'd switch things up.**

**Suneeku: Not Reecey! Ahh! ;P**

**Kintaraheart: GOOD QUESTION! Mwahaha!**

**Zarabethe: Yes, wrap her in the safety blanket, don't let her do more stupids!**

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Julian's heart dropped into his stomach, and his feet were made of lead as he saw blood pool beneath Reece and douse the floor. She'd been injured this entire time, ever since she hit the desk, and no one had realized. She hadn't told anyone until it was too late, and Julian had been too occupied with Lily to notice. For a second his eyes fell on the knife she'd hit; it stuck out at an odd angle, and with it were more like it, though they had simply been shoved further into the bag. How could this have happened, some random inanimate object with no one to wield it causing so much trouble?

The rest of the world faded as he dropped to Reece's side, noting how quickly her blood escaped her wound; she had to have hit something important if she was bleeding out this fast, and seeing as the blade had gone right through her, that was entirely possible. He drew her up into his arms, turning her so she faced him, and made an attempt to brush her hair from her eyes. Her blood glistened on his hands, though, and he accidentally painted a red streak on her face. He startled at the sight. His voice shook, terrified.

"Reece," his tone was weak. "No, no, Reece! It's okay! You're going to be okay, I promise!" his hands trembled, and he attempted to lift her up to carry her out. If he could take her to his father, she might make it.

Levianath stopped him, knowing exactly what he meant to do. "Don't-! You'll agitate the wound further!" The Warlock pointed to the ground beneath the girl, where she bled profusely with each movement. "You can't carry her down four flights of stairs and into a battle, Julian." The half-elf's voice wavered with his words, like he'd accepted something Julian could not.

Immediately, Julian froze there on his knees, holding her perfectly still, halfway in his arms and halfway draped on the floor. His breath halted when Reece's face pulled into what looked like an attempt at a smile, but all he could see in her features were fear and pain. Her freckled face was now streaked in her own blood, which she was losing far too quickly. Her shirt was doused in it.

"I'm okay," she attempted to speak, but it was a feeble whimper, and he saw panic in her eyes. She attempted to say his name, but her breath hitched and stole it. A second passed. "It's gonna be fine." Her eyes then slipped shut.

"No, stay! Wait!" Julian's panic rose, and he grasped at his healing spells, working as hard as he could to somehow reverse this despite how pathetic his magic really was. He could see her slipping, paling, her eyelids sinking and her breathing becoming shallower by the second, her life next to nothing. Julian had no idea what to do; all around them pooled her blood, and he felt his cheeks streaking with hot tears as he began to realize this might be his last second with her.

She let out a breath, and then stopped breathing altogether, her eyes remaining closed.

_"No!_ REECE!" he clutched her, drawing her in tighter and ignoring the blood soaking both of their clothing. His throat felt so tight he couldn't breathe. She lay limp as a ragdoll, her skin becoming frighteningly cold. He let out a mortified cry as he tried again to use his spells against the fatal wound. When that failed he pressed his mouth to her hair over her forehead, tears streaking his cheeks, rocking slightly. He hadn't even noticed Levianath kneeling beside them.

Julian felt her slipping, sensed her life draining away, and he knew she was dying. Her heart was so weak, nothing more than a flutter as it tried to pump blood that wasn't there. He felt Levianath's hand grip the shirt on his shoulder tightly, a gesture of pain and consolation.

He finally began to bawl, shaking, hysterical. He clung to her tighter, grief ripping his heart to shreds, the pain so intense he couldn't bear it, couldn't find proper words or actions other than refusal that this was actually happening. As he held her frame against himself, he rested his head against hers after shooting a glance at Levianath. "We have to do something!" he agonized to the Warlock, whose face held the most expressive look of pain he'd ever seen on him. "Help her!"

Levianath's brows twisted upward, his eyes pained. "Julian," he said after a moment in a finalizing tone, squeezing his shoulder to beckon him up. "We have to get ou-"

"NO!" Julian retorted violently, still rocking the girl in his arms, the girl whose heart had stopped beating, whose life had left her, though he refused to accept it. It had all happened too fast; his bearings had been ripped right out from under him.

Levianath sucked in a sharp breath as if realizing something. "Julian, there's something I can do, but-"

"_Do it_!"

"Are you sur-"

"Whatever it is, _do it_, Levianath!" he shouted, unable to see properly through his tears.

Levianath's expression turned a stoic, determined stare, and he nodded. Julian closed his eyes tightly, resting his forehead on Reece's, his tears mingling with the remnants of hers on the sides of her ashen face. He had no idea anything could hurt this badly, this intensely. It was like a thousand pounds crushing his chest, robbing his breath, crippling him, suffocating him. He forced himself not to think about how he'd lost not only his wife, but also his baby.

He hadn't lost them, he reminded himself forcefully. Levianath was going to do something. Levianath always did something. He always had a fix.

He heard Pip'tai's voice start up. "Wait, boss, if you're doing what I think you're d-"

Suddenly the imp's voice cut off with the sound of a scuffle. Julian nearly assumed Levianath had booted his imp, but he wasn't sure.

Levianath's voice was somber. "Take care of Fia for me."

"Boss!" Pip'tai blurted out just as a bright flash of green, so bright that Julian saw it through his lids, illuminated the room, the sound following it similar to that of a toned-down crack of lightning. Reece, in Julian's arms, stiffened, her back arching sharply, and her eyes shot open, every vein underneath her skin rippling once in a green glow, stretching out to her fingertips and then back toward her heart. Julian yanked his hands away from her, sitting up just in time to see Levianath's form crumple to the floor limply, the man's eyes empty as they stared through the ceiling at nothing. His imp was gone, possibly having been dismissed.

An electric shock of pure horror hit Julian as he realized what'd just happened, and his emotions violently conflicted with each other as Reece sat up abruptly, and she gasped in a deep, clearly painful breath. He let out a cry of relief and brushed her hair from her face, drawing her in carefully but quickly and pressing a gentle, relieved kiss to her cheek.

Julian's eyes scrunched themselves shut as if to block out what surrounded him; Levianath had just done something awful to bring Reece back to life, and he lay there beside them, cold and gone. Lily sat on her bed, and Julian finally turned his stare up to her. She appeared to be in a state of dumb shock, staring at Levianath on the floor.

Julian heard Reece mumble his name in her husky tone that he'd thought he'd lost forever, and he clutched the girl to himself, kissing her on the forehead, his only solace lying in the fact that he felt her breathing against him. He continued to stare at Lily, refusing to look down at Levianath's body for fear it'd break him.

"You need to get out," Lily finally spoke first, her cold stare switching to Julian. "And take his body. There's enough blood on the floor as it is; Duncan won't like a dead body here, too."

Her words sparked a flame of anger in Julian that he had not anticipated, and his lips curled. His words escaped in a growl. "Don't you _dare_ speak of him like that. And I don't know who Duncan is, or why you're so obsessed with pleasing him, but you seriously need to _wake the fuck up_, Lily."

She blinked a little at his uncharacteristic tone, faltering for a second, but she spoke again. "I'm telling you this for your own good, Julian, you need to go before he finds you. Me, I'll be fine, I'm happy here, but you? You'll die."

Julian's eyes flashed sharply. "Move," he ordered as he lifted Reece up from the ground and carried her to the bed. Lily stood and backed away as Julian placed the girl onto the blankets, then wiped the blood from his hands onto his pockets, switching his fiery glare back to Lily.

"This is your fault," he accused with a jab of his finger before kneeling down beside Levianath and feeling for a pulse. Levianath's skin was so cold it sent a chill down Julian's spine; people weren't supposed to be cold this quickly after death, not as far as he knew. The man's face was peaceful, but the way his light grey eyes stared into blank space was haunting.

Pip'tai appeared in a crackling warp of energy beside them, dazed, and he looked down at his dead master, and then at Reece.

"Shit, I knew I felt a loss of ownership. He did it, didn't he?" Pip bobbed over to the bed, and then back to Levianath. He reached out and slapped the sides of Levianath's face a couple times, felt his pulse, then realized he was dead.

"You damned, blasted fool," the imp barked sharply in his high-pitched growly voice, and before Julian could take another second to register in his mind what was happening, Pip stretched one clawed hand out toward Reece, stole back Levianath's energy in a whirling green siphon, and then returned it to his master, his expression pain-stricken but still quite determined, as if this spell were immensely difficult despite how simple it looked. The imp let out a characteristic half bark, half growl as the action succeeded.

Levianath inhaled and shot upright, appearing dazed, and Reece's already-prone form became entirely still.

Julian again felt his heart drop and anger rip at him from all directions. He had no control over what was happening to her. One second Reece was alive, then she was dead, then she was alive again, and then she was presumably dead. Julian was too shocked at this point to properly process what was happening right now, and he let out a surprised yelp and went to her side, unsure of what to do at this point.

After a moment of recovery Levianath looked directly at his imp. "Pip," he growled out in an exhausted tone, "Never counter my magic. You know what it does to you." With that he appeared to gather another spell, and Julian held his hand out toward Levianath.

"Stop it, Levi! I can't make you do this."

"You aren't," Levianath sent the boy a solemn smile and then fired up the green spell again. At his feet, a very defiant Pip'tai gathered up what looked like all he had left.

"Nope, I'm with the kid," the imp demanded, and he threw one hand in Lily's direction just as Levianath's spell activated, and the other toward Levianath. Julian's eyes widened as he watched Lily seize up at the magic, and suddenly Reece jolted awake.

It was like a game of whack-a-gnoll; Julian had no idea who would be upright next and who wouldn't, and it was throwing his emotions and his sanity through a shredder.

The imp collapsed. Not dead, it didn't seem, just unconscious, and Lily drooped lifelessly onto the floor beside her bed in a muffled thump. Levianath, still alive, stumbled back a foot away from her, eyes wide in confusion, and Julian hadn't the sanity to react at all other than to start yelling.

"STOP!" he finally shouted, his voice hysterical. "Everybody just _stop it_! Quit killing each other and yourselves, for crying out loud, this is insane!"

Reece, in his arms, stirred a little, wincing at the pain in her stomach.

Julian immediately turned his attention to her. "Are you-..." he was going to ask if she was all right, but given certain events leading to this point, he had no idea whether that question could be taken seriously.

At the sound of his voice speaking to her, her eyes opened, and he swallowed hard at the sight. The brown, liquid pools of her stare glimmered an off-silver that shone through her pupils. For a second he feared that maybe this wasn't Reece anymore; this light that shone from her eyes was lunar. It was Lily's.

But then she gave a partial smile, her voice a croak. "Songbird," she mumbled. "What's going on?"

Finally, Julian let out a pain-filled half-laugh, half-cry as he spoke. "I have no idea. I have no idea. But I think it's over." He pulled her in close as he spoke, hugging her head to his chest and staring across at Levianath, who was watching Lily's collapsed form with a haunted glint in his eyes. The young man had slumped to a sitting position near the wall.

"Are you alright, Lev?" he coaxed quietly, refusing to look at Lily.

Levianath seemed to startle at the sound of his own nickname, and he turned his wild stare to Julian, and sucked in a sharp breath. He nodded faintly and then looked down at his imp, who was recovering. Pip'tai sat up and shook his head comically, his fel fire reigniting. The creature turned his stare first from Levianath, then to Julian, and then to Lily.

"Did I do good, boss?" Pip'tai asked sarcastically as he hopped to his feet. "Next time you're thinking about resurrecting someone without using a damned soulstone, how about you just _don't,_ alright? That _hurt_."

Julian's brows tightened, and he finally forced himself to look at the prone form of the blue-haired Night Elf a few yards away. His mind was jumbled; guilt washed over him, because when he looked at her, the only thing he felt was relief. Relief that the two people he cared about most in this room were alive, and the cause of Reece's pain was lying dead on the floor. He knew his logic was flawed, he knew that it'd been semi-accidental, but he couldn't help it.

However, he still couldn't allow it to end the way it did. He took a deep breath and addressed the imp.

"Pip'tai, I need you to find my father. Lucian Silverpaw. Big, tall guy, white hair-"

"Yeah, yeah I know the brute. I'd go get him, but I'm outta juice."

Julian switched his stare to Levianath, though he still spoke to the imp. "Can you take some of his power? You can share, right?"

Pip nodded and looked at his owner expectantly. Levianath let out a tired sigh and held out his hand to the imp, and Pip immediately planted his own on top of the Warlock's. He seemed to steal however much he needed, and then created a quick porting circle on the floor in glowing runes. The imp vanished in its center, and Levianath slumped against the wall, now possibly entirely drained.

The room fell silent, and Julian continued to hold the freckled girl against himself, as if doing so would shield her from any further harm. His eyes traveled around the room, over the excessive amount of blood on the floor and the long, double-edged, randomly-placed blade on the desk that'd caused all of this. Everything had escalated so incredibly quickly, and just as quickly fallen into a numb hush. Julian had anticipated excitement in finding Lily, but not _this_ kind of excitement.

"Levianath," he managed to find his voice again.

The Warlock, who'd been sitting with his back to the wall, knees partially cocked and head hanging, lifted his head, eyeing Julian carefully, almost hesitantly. His dark hair had become loose over half his face, and his brows rested in a permanent knot. The man looked exactly like his predicament held: like he'd danced with death.

Julian swallowed back a hundred questions until one surfaced.

"Are you okay?"

Levianath's brows turned upward painfully for a moment, his eyes switching to Reece in Julian's arms.

"Is she?" the man's voice was rough, and quiet.

"I don't know."

Levianath's eyes fell shut, and he let his head fall back against the wall behind him, one elbow loftily draped over his knee and his hand drooping toward the ground. His chest rose and fell seven slow times before Julian dropped his stare to the girl in his arms.

"Reece," he murmured in near-silence, gently coaxing her face to surface from where it'd been buried against his chest. He saw her freckles emerge, her chocolate eyes glowing up into his, and he offered her a pained smile as he wrapped one of her cold hands into his. "How can I help? What do you need?"

Finally a familiar look covered her face, a pure, subtle smile. The glow behind her eyes seemed to be fading, but very slowly so. Julian didn't know humans' eyes could glow like that; perhaps it was just a side effect, something that wouldn't last. She looked too weak to speak now.

Suddenly Pip'tai appeared in the demonic circle, accompanied by another. The demon's voice grated against the silence but brought Julian relief. "Couldn't find the giant, but this guy seemed pretty eager to help."

Julian looked up, only to see that the accompanying elf was not his father, though indeed a welcome face.

"Glenn!" Julian breathed, not standing or moving Reece, but offering his mentor a grateful smile.

The green-haired Druid's spectacled stare carried first to Julian, then did a short sweep of the room.

"Julian, good gods, what's happened here?" he took a step further, but paused before his boot hit blood that stained the floor.

Julian carefully lifted Reece entirely into his arms and stood wobbily, holding the girl close. Reece let her eyes fall shut as she relaxed entirely. He feared she'd just lost consciousness. "Glenn, can you heal her?"

Immediately the man drew into his hands a healing spell, and he took a step in, inspecting Reece.

"Where is she injured?"

"Abdomen. Dagger, through her back. She also...died, a couple times."

Glennolan faltered, glancing at Julian above his glasses as if he hadn't heard him right. "A couple?"

Julian nodded, and although Glenn clearly had questions, he transferred the magic, healing to the best of his capacity, though Julian knew the man specialized in feral abilities and held only basic knowledge of knitting wounds. Reece didn't react, which did confirm she was unconscious. However, she was alive. Julian felt immeasurably thankful for this, though _who_ really deserved his thanks, he was unsure. Levianath, Pip, or even Lily, he couldn't tell.

Glenn moved to help Lily, but Julian stopped him. "She's dead, Glenn. We need to get her to my dad."

"Lucian may be able to revive her. How long has it been? How'd she die?"

"Not too long. She...uh," Julian scrunched up his face in confusion. "Magic."

"Magic. Good. More time to fix this." Glenn turned to Levianath, who was still resting against the wall. The man looked beaten. Glenn held a hand down to the Warlock. "Levianath, do you need healing?"

Levianath took the man's hand. "No, I just feel like shit."

"Where does it hurt most?"

"Everywhere."

Glenn reached into a satchel attached to the side of his belt and pulled out a tiny red healing vial, and a blue potion. "These might help some," he handed them off.

Levianath took them gratefully and drank the liquid as Glenn reached down and lifted Lily into his arms. The Druid looked at Pip'tai. "Demon, can you port all of us?"

"Five people and one demon? Are you joking?" the imp snorted. "I'm out of juice already as it is."

"Right," Glenn retorted with a grimace. Lily's body hung loosely over his arms. "We're going to need to go on foot. Julian, can you carry her?" He asked about Reece.

Julian nodded, shifting his unconscious wife slightly in his arms as Glenn took the lead. They made their way swiftly through the top floor and to the downward-winding stairs, and as they descended, Julian noticed that Raphael's and Darkrunner's people had reached floor three. One more, and they'd find nothing more than an empty room with blood and demonic runes etched into the floor. That would be an odd sight to happen upon.

The entrance of the fortress was cleared; they met no opposition, but Julian's nose burned with smoke as they tumbled outside into the night air. A tremor ran through the ground, so subtle, but Julian caught it, and he frowned as Glenn continued to lead the crew back to safety.

As if the quake hadn't been enough, that awful screeching roar echoed through the camp, and Julian nearly dropped his precious cargo, but in turn held her tighter to him.

"Glenn, what was that?" he coaxed.

"Someone I very much do not want you to meet," Glenn responded quickly. "We're almost there."

They'd taken a dark path along the edge of the camps, in a large, wide circle similar to the route Julian and Reece had taken the opposite way. Glenn's pace increased, and the others' followed suit.

Finally Julian saw familiar people from Darkrunner's crew as they rounded the corner of one large tent. The smoke here was palpable now, visible as it billowed up into the sky, illuminated by various light sources like torches and the magical spell here and there.

The second they passed the tent, though, the source of the smoke was revealed. All the tents and buildings in a fifty yard diameter had been crushed and blown outward, ignited, and burned to charcoal. The walls that faced the sea had been blown away and crumbled, and the edges still burned slowly, but that barely drew Julian's attention.

What drew Julian's attention was a hulking form in the darkness, scaled, with burning eyes and a great, gaping maw of razor-sharp, white-hot teeth.

"You've got to be joking," Levianath's tired voice carried out just as Julian finally registered what it was in the center of the burned ground. His heart lurched to his throat.

Glenn let out a distressed sound. "This is far worse than it was ten minutes ago." The man carried Lily right along the edge of the burnt ground, looking for Lucian or probably someone to help with a portal to get Julian and the injured out of here.

Julian's eyes remained on the dragon that seemed to be toying with those attacking it. It wasn't massive like the dragons Julian had heard of ages ago; it stood at the shoulder probably only a few feet larger than Julian himself. But that didn't mean it was any less terrifying. Blades did nearly nothing against it, and every few seconds it'd blow out a puff of hot smoke toward those attacking, causing them to fall into coughing fits and stumble around. The only people Julian could see attacking it were Rogues and pirates; he saw none of his family.

"I need to get to Lucian!" Julian heard Glenn's distressed voice carry out, and some of the pirates around him heard him and went to his aid.

Julian continued to back away from the sight, trying to distance Reece as far as possible from the danger without just disappearing entirely from those trying to help him. One pirate he recognized darted past him, and he shouted out his name.

"Rodney!" he yelped, and the man skidded to a stop and then jogged to him, eyes falling on Reece.

"What happened to our cabin boy?" Rodney asked breathlessly. The man was drenched in sweat and dirt, and his weapons gleamed in blood.

"Take her somewhere safe," Julian handed her off. He had no idea what to do here, but he trusted Rodney, and Rodney cared for Reece like a little sibling.

The gigantic human took the unconscious, smaller human into his arms without question and nodded determinedly. "Aye, I'll get her to the ship, lad. But you need to get out of here, too."

"Thank you," his voice held extreme appreciation, and he nodded back. "I will."

The man disappeared with the girl, and Julian let out a breath. Rodney knew where to go; she would be safe now, safer than she'd have been with him.

Suddenly, from the sea beyond the crumbled walls, Julian saw a reddish-orange flare burst up into the sky. Seconds following, all those attacking the dragon simultaneously took off in all directions away from the creature, scattering and confusing it.

His curiosity won him over and he took a single step forward, watching what might happen next. He heard the familiar sound of cannonfire explode in a thunderous crack behind him and the crumbled walls, the force behind the explosion nearly knocking him over entirely. He scrambled upright from his knees and saw the dragon pelted with grapeshot from Darkrunner's guns, which seemed to actually have an effect. The creature let out a furious bellow and, once recovered, took off in a run toward the attackers at sea, ignoring everyone else around it. The dragon thundered straight toward the open wall, closer and closer to Julian as well, and he felt his hair stand on end as he stumbled backward.

The cannons beyond the walls exploded again, and the creature's head abruptly slammed into the ground, this time grazed by a full-sized cannonball. Julian could have sworn he heard a familiar pyromaniac Goblin let out a colorful string of excited profanity in the form of a cheer as the dragon skidded to a stop, falling limp. Julian, eyes wide, felt a surge of relief and anticipation. The dragon wasn't moving. Had it worked?

He could see it only thirty feet away now, smoke rising from its iridescent scales and its eyes closed. He saw where it'd been hit with the grapeshot clusters, where the scales had been dented and broken, and where the cannonball had grazed its head with a bleeding wound.

Shouts came from beyond the wall beside him, and Glenn appeared in front of him with Lily still in his arms just as Julian saw familiar faces flood in from the beach. He saw his father's white hair shine in the darkness, and he let out a shout.

"Dad!" he called in relief, and Lucian turned his head in surprise.

"Julian, what are you _doing_ here?" Lucian asked him harshly, and Julian ignored the question as Glenn stole the man's attention.

"Chief, got time for a resurrection?"

Lucian's stare switched to Glenn, then fell to Lily. "She's dead?"

Glenn nodded. "Julian says it was magic. We've got some time."

Lucian gestured to hand her over to him, and Glenn did so. The white-haired Druid carried her toward the crumbled wall, most likely to take her to the ship. Julian realized that was probably the safest place to be right now, without a portal to the safe camp miles away. It was likely where Rodney had taken Reece.

Glenn beckoned for Julian to follow Lucian, but just as Julian took a step, the dragon awoke, lifting its head and looking straight at Lucian.

A few people who'd been approaching it shouted and attempted to restrain it, but it ignored them and immediately rose to its feet. Its eyes remained fixed on Lucian, or rather, the girl in his arms. Suddenly it sucked in a deep breath and vomited fire in a broad arc in front of itself, burning those around it to ash, and everyone around Julian let out shouts of rage and fear.

The dragon, now unopposed due to the wall of fire it'd made in defense, began to shrink, shifting slowly into the form of nothing more than a human man dressed in tattered clothes.

Julian's eyes widened as he stared at the man; he was tall, but not immensely so, muscular, with intense, shaded features and long, dread-locked hair. The wound on the side of his head was gnarly, the skin having split open and blood trickling down past his ear and down onto his clothes. His face was not entirely visible, despite the fire around him lighting up most of his features. Where he stood somehow blocked his appearance.

When he spoke, his tone was a violent roar, still holding the strength of the dragon behind it, and his eyes glowed like fire.

"_That is mine!_" venom laced his words, and he shifted a threatening step forward.

Julian blanched. Was the dragon talking about _Lily_? What did he mean 'that's mine'?

The dragon growled. "I own the elf. Hand her over now, and I may spare you a quick death."

A thought hit Julian; was this man, this dragon, the reason that Lily had acted the way she had? It'd make sense; maybe she'd acted that way out of fear. Maybe this man was the 'Duncan' she kept referencing, though that didn't seem a probable name for a dragon.

Lucian, now backed up by Norivana and a load of other familiar faces like Fiammetta, Raphael, and Captain Darkrunner, sent the creature a challenging glare. "You own nobody, Slaver, not anymore."

"Slaver?" the dragon's voice even seemed reptilian somehow, the fire around him flaring up. "I am no simple slaver. I am Wrouxius, brood of Experiment 16-A of the Chromatic Dragonflight. Captivity is all my flight has ever known. I am more than a slaver. Now, give me the woman."

"Chromatic?" the word trickled through the group. Lucian refused to return the girl.

"She is no one's to claim," Lucian commanded, at the same time beckoning Julian to get behind him, which he did, and quickly so. Raphael patted Julian on the back reassuringly and drew him closer into the wall of people, practically putting the boy behind himself.

Finally the dragon stepped forward, practically standing in the fire, and his face became clear. Julian saw Raphael's shoulders tense up in front of him as if he were surprised to see the man's face, and both of Julian's parents startled.

"No," Norivana breathed in shock. "That's not possible."

"Duncan?" Lucian stepped forward a single step. "What happened to you?"

Julian stared at his parents like they'd gone crazy; how did they know this guy?

The fiery-eyed dragon seemed slightly taken aback at being recognized, but his expression held no recognition of its own as he stared at Lucian.

Lucian's tone was incredulous. "Last I saw you was Draenor, nearly a century ago."

Everyone, including Duncan, stared at the Druid chieftain for a few slow, speechless seconds. Duncan, gears turning in his head, blinked and gave Lucian a dismissive look.

"Random," the dragon's voice nearly sounded like it held humor. "And inaccurate. I shall civilly request one last time that you return to me what I rightfully own. I may even spare you and your ragtag team. You've come so far; it would be a shame to ruin your hard work."

Lucian's voice was nowhere near as strong as it'd been before he'd recognized the dragon, and he seemed quite shaken with the ordeal, but he did appear to be recovering. "She is not yours to claim," he repeated himself from earlier. "You're gravely outnumbered, Dun-" he caught himself, "-Dragon, Wrouxius, whoever. This is your final warning; we will kill you, if you force our hand any further. Surrender now, before anyone else has to get hurt."

This was apparently the wrong thing to say. The dragon's face twisted into clear fury as he shifted back into his scaled form in the blink of an eye, and just as suddenly breathed a steady stream of angry, deadly fire in Lucian's direction. Lucian let out a shout and dropped the body from his arms in order to place a healing, frost-like shield around not only himself but those with him, holding well against the fire.

Julian could feel the heat from where he was, and his heart raced in his chest at the sight before him: his father's magic was the only thing between everyone else and the dragonfire.

As soon as Wrouxius ran out of his first breath, Lucian immediately attacked with one magical blast after the next, frost attacks mixed with unstable natural energy. The powerful Druid aimed at the injuries on the dragon's skull, which turned out to be immensely effective.

The dragon backed up step after step as Lucian's attacks were relentless, and finally he let out a screech and spread his wings, vaulted up into the air, and took off toward the fortress through the night sky, disappearing behind the building.

Suddenly everywhere around Julian, people came to life and began running around, taking this sudden break as a boon to help the injured and prepare for round two. A large hand fell on Julian's arm, and he looked up at its owner, his father.

"Julian, what kind of magic did you say Lily suffered?"

Julian looked at the ground behind his dad; Lily lay there with a few different people inspecting her in confusion.

"I'm...not sure," he replied, looking around for Levianath. "Levianath would know."

"Go find him," the man ordered. "Quickly."

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

Once he'd found Fiammetta, he'd stuck to her like glue. He'd witnessed the encounter between Lucian Silverpaw and the dragon, Duncan, who for some reason would not give up the fight for Lily. Lily, whom Levianath had killed. Not on purpose, but he'd still killed her, the girl Julian had been trying to save all this time. He should've been strong enough to control his own minion, but he hadn't. Pip had sabotaged everything. Levi never should have trusted a demon. He feared Julian might hate him forever after that.

Honestly, he was shocked with how he'd reacted to Reece's death; when she died, it was the first time he'd felt that kind of grief. The loss of losing someone he loved had hit him so strongly he had no idea how to react, because he'd never had to 'til now. He'd done the first thing he could think of to fix all of it, to bring her back, to end his pain: he'd given her his own life. He'd known they only had seconds to spare, that no one could have saved her if not for his quick action. It would likely have been too late if they'd wasted time taking her to someone else.

He was surprised at what he'd done in the moment. At the time, it'd seemed like the only thing he could do, and in truth it probably was. It was as if seeing so much pain from the boy he knew as his own trusty optimistic sidekick had broken something in his head and made him act rashly and without thought. He'd wanted to do anything, anything at all, to make Julian's pain go away, even if it meant ruining his life, leaving the woman he loved, and abandoning everything he'd gained. It would have ruined Julian beyond repair if Reece was lost. Julian would have lost himself, as well. Levianath knew the kind of love Julian felt, and what would happen if that love was killed. The kid never would have been the same.

So without question, he gave everything up. But then pip had gone and mucked it all into one big muddy mess. Levianath had gotten a second chance, but somehow his second attempt at the spell had jumped to Lily at Pip's hand. Reece was only alive thanks to Lily's unbidden sacrifice. Levianath understood now that Pip'tai knew far more magic than he let on, especially wielding the power to override and alter his own master's spells at his choosing.

He felt foolish for his sacrifice at this point, and yet he knew that if he had a do-over, nothing would have changed, even if he knew he wasn't going to make it this time around. He'd do anything for Julian.

Currently, Levianath was with Fiammetta and Darkrunner; Fia had welcomed him back to the group in relief when he'd arrived, glad to know he was alright, and that filled him with guilt. The relief on her face could've been very different if his imp had not been so disobedient. He hadn't thought about how his death might affect her, at least not emotionally.

Upon returning, Levianath had witnessed, among everyone else, the outlandish encounter between Lucian Silverpaw and the dragon, the words exchanged, the strangeness of it all. Apparently Julian's parents knew the dragon personally, but the dragon did not know them. None of it made sense.

Julian, no longer holding Reece in his arms, found Levianath and tugged him along back to the group, stopping before Lily.

Lucian, beside the girl, asked Levianath some basic questions about the spell used on Lily. What kind of magic he used, its purpose, etcetera. Levianath told every truth and retained nothing. Lucian and Glenn then exchanged a few words, and the frosty giant turned his eyes back to Levianath.

"She isn't actually dead," Lucian reassured the man, and Levianath's brows lifted.

"How?"

"Your spell didn't work full-strength; your demon must have had less power than he thought when he tried to apply it to her. Think of it this way: Reece was an empty glass, and Lily was a full one. You likely poured half of Lily's side into Reece's, and now they're both half full. Or half empty, if you're a pessimist."

"Right..." Levianath made a face of deep concentration. "So will she be alright?"

The green-haired bespectacled Druid beside Julian's father held up a handful of tiny vials of different elixirs almost comically. "Guardian elixir cocktail, mixed with the chief's revival spell, should do the trick."

As Glenn administered the medicine, Lucian summoned a spell into his hands, growing ethereal plants out of thin air that warped and rippled with healing energy. He additionally seemed to draw on the power of the moon overhead, directing a beam of light onto the girl as he transferred all the magic to her. Finally Levianath saw her ribs expand in a deep breath. Glenn laughed in relief as Lily sat up with a frightened gasp.

Norivana appeared from the side. "Lucian, they need aid," she pointed behind herself, and she and her husband switched places. He immediately went off to help other injured people, and Norivana took to Lily's side. Levianath noted how quickly everyone moved; they knew they were on borrowed time, that the dragon might return, so they were doing everything they could to get the injured out of the battlefield and re-bolster themselves for round two.

Norivana spoke with Lily in even tones and calmed her down quickly. She told her she was going to be all right, that they were all here to get her out of there. Levianath half expected the girl to go on another strange rant of defiance as she'd done up in the stone fortress, but on the contrary she finally appeared to relax. The minute she realized she was safe, that Norivana and Lucian and everyone were there and not just Julian and Levianath, she became a new person. She was entirely willing to spill everything she knew about Duncan, and Levianath saw Julian sitting distantly, watching her with a tense, harsh stare. If he was glad of her resurrection, he didn't show it.

"Well," Lily said after being asked about Duncan. "He's a dragon."

"Yes, we know," a few people nodded quickly.

Lily swallowed once, still recovering from what'd happened to her. Her hands gave slight tremors here and there as if she were shivering. "I didn't think he was serious at first about being one, but a few months ago he shifted after getting really angry at some of his workers. Then it all made sense why everyone did what he told them to do, why everyone was so afraid of him. Since then he's been freely telling me so much about himself."

The girl spoke quickly. Levianath wondered for a second why they weren't escorting her out of the camp, when he realized that this spot they were in, the safe corner of the camp, might be the only place around that wasn't swarming with Saltsprocket slaver guards and the fight between them and the rogues and pirates. The path to the ship was clear, but the rowboats were already currently in use, transporting the injured to the vessel, so it would be useless to trap themselves against the sea. Levianath supposed Reece was on the ship at this point, which made him feel a little less anxiety about her well-being.

His focus returned to Lily as she spoke of the dragon; he scolded himself for becoming distracted, as he really wanted to know what was going on.

"-And he took over Saltsprocket out of curiosity. He told me he wanted to know what it was like to be the one in charge of captives because he grew up a captive himself. I don't know a ton about his past but he did say he's the result of an experiment, or something, the offspring of a merge between human and dragon. He was unnaturally aged and experimented on heavily prior to his escape from his creators, a long time ago now. He told me the reason he gave himself willingly as a Saltsprocket slave was because he was bored and because he wanted to find their main camp and main boss, to take over. He knew it would be easy, and that was why he did it. I'm still not entirely sure why he liked me in particular, but he treated me well, better than anyone else here, even better than himself. He once mentioned something about me being part of 'his collection.'"

Norivana seemed extremely confused. "This does not line up with what I know of him at all. He was, dare I say, a friend when we knew him."

"And not a dragon," Raphael added in. "Unless we were sorely unobservant, which in retrospect we may have been." He gave Norivana a hesitant look. "However, Norivana, he was...not your friend."

"What do you mean?"

"Duncan was the most scheming, manipulative, sociopathic person I have ever known, and I say that knowing my own uncle. He's the reason Ephraim was able to rise to power in the first place."

Norivana's eyes widened slightly. "You're kidding?"

"Well, he _did_ lie to you about killing my uncle and me, did he not? You thought we were dead for ages because of his word."

The red-headed woman frowned deeply as she contemplated this. Levianath shot a glance at Julian. The kid's face was always easily-readable, but not so much right now. He looked so serious, he was nearly unrecognizable, and the cold glint in his eye sent a pang of uneasiness through Levianath. He had no idea what the boy was thinking right now.

A violent roar cracked through the sky that let them know their time was up. The dragon appeared in the night air, bearing down on them so sharply that they all only had a few seconds' warning before he swooped down and rained fire upon the crowds. Behind him, the remaining army of slavers came in a second wave of attack. Levianath jumped to his feet and unsheathed his daggers just in time to block a crude sword from cleaving his chest.

A streak of blue and purple at his side revealed Fiammetta to his aid, and beyond her, Levianath could see Wraith fighting like a devil with his dual swords. These slavers were decently-skilled, most of them either Goblin or Human, but the trio of Levi, Fia, and Wraith was unstoppable.

Levianath acted as their backup; he imbued their weapons, watched their backs, fended off any side attackers with his own magic. Fiammetta and Wraith had identical fighting patterns, attacking in artful sweeps and violent clashes, swift and powerful, light on their feet and yet holding the strength of bears. He found himself becoming lost in the way Fiammetta danced around the battle, the way her ice-blue eyes somehow seemed on fire every time he caught a glimpse of them, piercing their next target before following with her blades.

Levianath used his daggers when necessary, but was nowhere near as good as either of them with a blade. He stuck to his curses and life-draining spells, which worked well enough.

All the while, Julian's parents and a good handful of others had become engaged in a stalemate against the dragon. Lucian shielded every attempt at fire, and Duncan's wounds from earlier had been healed and cauterized enough to where they did not bleed and the magic hitting those areas did not affect him like it had before. In fact, some types of magic seemed to be absorbed, reigniting his energy more than anything else. Dragons, Levi thought to himself, were not the type to put on one's bad side.

Duncan did not let Lily out of his sight; they could not move her anywhere, because he followed right after her. Among the collection of Wraith's pirates specialized in ranged attacks, Lucian Silverpaw had created a defensive wall between Lily and the lizard. Norivana and Raphael could be seen fighting off Saltsprocket guards who got too close to the defense. Levianath realized that in order to put the odds in Lucian's favor, they needed a distraction, and he shouted that to Fiammetta.

"Good idea," she yelled back to him as she fought off an attacker. "I have flares; we'll use those in bulk!"

"Alright, hold on!" retorted the Warlock, and he ran toward Lucian, but his foot caught something hard and he wiped out completely, rolling once and scrambling up to see that he'd tripped over none other than a bewildered Julian, who'd been dragging an injured Rogue out of danger.

"Julian!" Levi caught the boy. "Let me do that; tell your father to get ready to move Lily, we're going to create a distraction. If we can get Lily out quickly enough, it could distress the dragon enough to get the upper hand."

Levi hooked his arms under the Rogue's and dragged the man to safety as Julian sprinted off toward Lucian. He then ran back to Fiammetta and yanked two flares from her belt for himself. She threw one to Wraith, and kept the final two for herself. They took off running to the opposite side of the large, charred radius, to the opposite side of Lily and those defending her.

"Ready!" she shouted.

Levianath aimed the flares. "NOW!"

They sparked the flares, aimed right toward the dragon's head. From their hands exploded vibrant, blinding flashes of red, gold, and orange sparks, hissing and whistling and creating such a sudden commotion that the creature did exactly what they needed him to do. His head turned toward the flares as he startled at the sudden bright explosion, and he let out a harsh roar, ducking as the sparks and colorful smoke showered over his head.

Behind the dragon Levianath saw that Julian had grabbed Lily by the hand and the two were sprinting full-speed away from the dragon, their vibrant red and blue heads of hair drawing the eye. He silently urged them to be faster, to duck lower, to get out of there sooner, even though they sprinted at impressive speeds. As long as the dragon remained fixed on the sparks for just ten more seconds, even, the plan would succeed. Julian and Lily could find cover behind the walls and escape.

But, Duncan caught on far too soon, and he roared even louder as his head pointed right at Julian and Lily. Levianath's heart dropped in fear as he saw the dragon launch itself forward, despite the number of arrows, magical spells, and knives pelting it at all sides.

"You deny me of my prize still," the creature's voice was dreadfully loud as he growled at his attackers, keeping his eyes on Julian and Lily. "I will not lose such a jewel to the likes of fools. If I cannot have her, so be it for the rest you, too!"

The dragon drew closer to Julian. Levianath felt his entire body freeze in dread as from the dragon's mouth exploded a violent plume of fire that engulfed both Julian and Lily entirely. A shout escaped Levianath's throat in shock, and he felt his limbs go numb as the dragon continued to bear down, the two teens not even visible through the fire as Duncan spat an endless stream of flame.

Shouts, yells, roars, screams, everything mixed together in a hectic din as Duncan turned his anger onto everyone else surrounding him, breathing fire in a massive arc to keep his attackers at bay. Julian's last known location still burned, and Levianath couldn't help but let an enraged, grief-stricken cry of pain escape him. He'd just witnessed his closest friend burnt into nothing. The flames still had not doused, and Levianath searched to no avail for a sign of his friend through the flames.

Duncan returned his attention back to where they were last seen and continued to pour fire onto that same spot, as if he hadn't already burnt the two of them to a crisp. Norivana and Lucian had reacted the strongest of everyone, uncaring of the wall of fire and every peril in their paths as they launched a synchronized attack against the dragon; slicing, smiting, stunning and stabbing, doing everything they could to take him down. Norivana's blades even found their way deep into his skin between scales in his side and legs, and yet he barely reacted. His attention still remained on burning that one spot.

Levianath kept his numb stare in that spot, where Duncan kept his attacks coming, but as the dragon finally relented and took a breath, the flames receded. Levianath saw something that shocked him. A warping, bluish-white field of cold, like that of the shields Lucian had been utilizing against the fire, could be seen emanating from the outstretched hand of Julian himself, who'd hunched over Lily and protected both of them.

Levianath, Fiammetta, and Wraith launched attacks against the dragon, Levianath with renewed hope for his friend. Julian's magic was the only thing keeping him and Lily alive against a dragon, and that dragon was bolstering its breath for another round. Fia and Wraith went for the dragon, and Levianath ran toward Julian.

Duncan made to attack again, his mouth beginning to glow with more flame, but Levianath saw Fiammetta swing her sharp cutlasses in a delicate, deadly swoop, getting in a well-placed gash right at the base of the creature's neck, between scale and through skin. The second her blades pierced the area, the metal became first orange and then white-hot within seconds, and she dropped them immediately, the superheated blades hitting the ground together in a metallic clatter. However, the damage was done to the dragon, and for good measure, Levianath launched a barrage of corrupting, leeching magic at the wound.

Duncan let out a strangled roar and swiped his scaled arm out to the side, knocking the first mate and the pirate captain both hard to the ground in a single sweep but unable to produce more fire.

Finally Levianath reached Julian and Lily, and his heart dropped at their state. Julian's entire right side, from his shoulder to his knee in angry red lesions, was burned. His entire right arm, shoulder, part of his back, and along his right upper leg had all been seared in third degree burns and blisters.

"Julian!" yelped Levianath in alarm as the boy continued to hold the frost shield, his face turned away from the dragon as he held Lily. Levianath repeated himself and Julian opened his eyes, his face twisted in pain. The second he saw Levianath, something in him broke, and he dropped the shield and let out a cry as his arm dropped to his side, his knees bending as he crumpled down. Lily was otherwise unhurt, having been shielded, and Levianath grabbed her arm.

"_Run_," he ordered sharply, and she nodded and stumbled back as Levianath dropped to Julian's aid.

Duncan, tired of the attacks, launched into the air with a sweep of his wings, creating a rush of dry dust and ash that swirled up in the air. He flew in a broad circle, then swung back down and crashed into the crowd of those who'd been attacking him, knocking everyone over and debilitating them. Even without his fire, he could still cause serious damage.

In the window of pause, the dragon let out a hissing string of draconic words, a spell. His words held power to them, a strong power so intense that it made Levianath nauseous and dizzy just to hear it. He faintly heard Lucian Silverpaw let out a defiant shout, an incredulous 'No!', but it did nothing to interrupt.

Lily straightened up in response to the chant, stopping mid-step, her face going blank and eyes staring straight ahead as she slowly turned around to face the dragon. Duncan's chant intensified, and Lily took one step toward him, then another, her feet carrying her to him like the shuffle of a zombie. Everyone around the dragon had crumpled under the power of his spell, but Julian was just coherent enough to shout after Lily.

"Lily, stop!" Julian cried out, wincing at his burns, and Levianath had to grab the boy to keep him from jumping to his feet.

Lily stumbled to Duncan mindlessly, her face blank. The dragon finished the chant, and instantly Lily fell to the ground in front of him.

In one swift motion, he scooped her into his claws, launched them both upward, and rocketed impossibly-fast into the night air. In seconds, he'd left the camp, and within just a few more, he'd disappeared into the dark sky, vanishing westward with nothing other than the now-faded whoosh of his wings.

All was silent but the remaining crackle of fire and the distant sounds of fighting between pirates and slavers. Julian slumped forward, the adrenaline now seeping away and leaving him in agonizing pain, and Levianath caught the boy in his arms.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Commence 'WTF' in 3...2...1...**


	24. Dynamite

**Sorry about the wait, my beloved readers. Real life is an unforgiving hag sometimes. **

**Responses:**

**Suneeku: I don't know why, but that review made me laugh. Thank you. :D**

**Zara: That he did, and maybe not all entirely physical scars, too. :P And also YEAH we're so not done with Duncan. At least, not in the long run. Now that he has Lily, she can tell him everything. About everyone. And he can...erm...plot. And time travel and stuff. And be evil and cameo in like 3 more upcoming stories. Ahhh! Bwaahha.**

**Psalty: Ack! I know, right!? He needs a good punching!**

**Willowstar: Aha, yeah I guess I kind of actually did do that. So you only have to kind of ragequit. I have no idea how that would work. xD **

**Jay: Ah, one of these days I'll get up the courage to do that. Lev was supposed to bite the dust about ten different times in this story, but my sis wouldn't allow it. We'll see about the next one. :D**

**Ophie: Ahaha, I'm glad you liked it! I love Pip. He's not in Levi's best graces right now, but pretty soon, Levi'll realize that Pip was sort of the hero of the hour. And how were exams?**

* * *

Once, around a decade ago, Levianath's half-sister Ingrid had been cooking vegetable soup from the veggies grown in the small garden out back. Levianath had been keeping to himself in the adjacent room, reading a book whose title he could presently no longer recall, when he had heard a gasp and a loud clatter, the sound of water spilling onto the floor, and a scream. Upon bursting into the room, he'd seen that Ingrid had somehow spilled the boiling water onto her legs and feet. He'd been just a young teenager then, but he knew enough about burns to understand that she needed something cold to counteract it. The only thing available at the time was a pan full of cold dishwater, which he'd taken and poured immediately onto the burns. He had been quick enough to act that the burns she suffered didn't have enough time to scald all the way through the skin, and the only consequence she endured was a collection of blisters that healed in a couple weeks.

That was the only first-hand experience the man had with burns, save for magical ones he had seen before that healed within hours. Other than those, he'd only ever seen the burns caused by boiling water.

Until this point, he'd never witnessed or known what dragon fire could do to a boy, and he wished he never had.

Julian had fallen unconscious as soon as Duncan fled; he'd slumped forward and Levianath caught him before he could hit the sand. The boy, despite his lack of awareness or consciousness, shivered almost convulsively in Levi's arms, trembling heavily as his body lost much of its ability to regulate heat thanks to the extensive scorching. If nothing else, Levianath feared the boy might go into shock, not to mention contract hypothermia despite his burns; large areas of his skin had been ruined, and the night air was actually quite cold. He needed care, immediately.

Thankfully Lucian Silverpaw had swept in and taken Julian into his own care before Levianath had taken the time to effectively respond to his best friend's predicament. Without care as to whether or not the dragon might return, Lucian recreated the portal to the safe camp, and, after giving a quick word to Glenn, he and his wife ported out. The portal remained there, free for anyone to enter, and Levianath distantly heard Glenn request that they retrieve the other injured victims and take them through as well.

Levianath shakily brought himself to his feet, his expression tense, and suddenly remembered that the last thing he'd seen of Fiammetta was her being knocked to the ground with tremendous force. The hair on the back of his neck suddenly prickled as his eyes rested on two prone, unmoving forms: one he saw to be Wraith, and the other Fiammetta herself. Both of them lay in the sand, and Levianath stumbled after them, his legs not responding properly after everything he'd witnessed in the past hour.

He reached her, and immediately felt relief trickle into his mind when he saw that she was already awake, and she seemed to be attempting to get something out of her eyes, first scrunching them tightly and then opening them wide and blinking a few times. He saw a thin cut that ran across the right side of her forehead and into her hairline; it was not a deep cut, and did not worry him. She was awake, and alive.

She did not react to him as he bent over her, but she did startle somewhat violently when he clasped his hand around hers. Her eyes blinked again, and she seemed to be looking through him.

"Fiammetta," he said gently, and she stilled at the sound of his voice, seeming to relax some.

"Yeah?"

"What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"What happened?" she asked roughly as she forced herself to sit up. She still had not actually looked at him.

"I'll get back to you on that," he tensed his jaw, and glanced over at Wraith. Wraith was as still as death. Levianath could not see the man breathing.

Fiammetta put her hand to the back of her head and winced visibly, pulling it away to reveal that it had doused itself with blood. Levianath's heart sped up.

"Fia," he coaxed, his eyes widening, "You're hurt."

"Yeah," she agreed, tilting her head to the side. Levianath gently turned her chin and saw that the base of her shaved head had received a hard blow; she must have hit it on something upon being thrown, possibly the rubble from the destroyed walls. There were some sharp, large chunks on the ground nearby.

As if that wasn't bad enough, her long, slender ear appeared to be holding on by a single thread; it had received a clean break almost straight through.

"C'mon," he coaxed her. "Can you stand? Let's get you to the safe camp."

"Ok," she said simply, and when he took her hands, they quaked. He helped her upright, but when they stood, she didn't make any effort to walk, and instead donned a look of apprehension, mixed with a little fear, which was unnatural on her. Her eyes remained drifting off ahead.

Levianath paused and, still supporting her, brought her in close against himself. "Fia, look at me," he persuaded in a low, worried tone. She continued to stare bewilderingly off at nothing. He spoke again. "Fiammetta, snap out of this, we need to get you out. Just look at me, please."

"I can't," she finally muttered.

"What?"

"I can't…look at you." She swallowed hard and stared past his chin. "Levianath, I can't see anything."

He froze, waited a few seconds, and took a deep breath. "Okay," he nodded. "It's gonna be alright. Will you let me carry you?"

A partial smile fluttered onto her full lips despite her situation. "Why yes, sweep me off my feet, handsome mystery man whom I cannot see." She leaned in toward him, "Just don't tell my boyfriend, the half-elf. He might get jealous." She whispered the last part jokingly. Clearly her brain trauma had made her goofy.

He gave an offbeat chuckle. "You know who I am," he murmured as he gently scooped her up. "But, 'handsome mystery man' has a good ring to it." He kept his mind off the fact she'd called him her boyfriend.

As he carried her toward the portal, he saw people carrying others on stretchers and just in their arms to the safe camp as well. He saw the large human, Rodney, carrying Reece. The girl's dark hair splayed out toward the ground as her head draped over the man's arm, and her eyes were closed. Just the sight of her sent an odd shock through Levianath's mind; he'd suppressed everything that'd happened in the fortress, and seeing her had brought it all back.

The second he walked through the portal, three different Priests immediately relieved him of his precious cargo and whisked the woman off to one of the surgical tents before he could respond. Levianath stood there, frozen for a good few seconds before he came to the conclusion that the people here would take care of her, that he was useless to help her. He knew he was in the way, and he needed to make himself useful again.

His mind returned to Wraith, last seen lying in the sand, and he immediately ran back through the portal and returned to the pirate captain. A lingering fear gripped him, the fear that the dragon would be back at any moment and this time they'd fail against it. Part of him hoped the creature would return in order to give Lily another chance at salvation, but a much larger part prayed that the beast had taken its treasure and fled for good. In a toss-up between preserving the lives of all of these people who'd put their lives on the line to take down a tyrant and salvaging the life of one single person whose blame in all of this disaster was moderately-high, he'd definitely take the former.

Wraith, as far as Levianath judged upon first glance, was dead. He lay there in the sand with his dark-lashed eyes pinned shut, mouth cracked open, and body angled unnaturally. His exposed neck showed no pulse, but when Levianath pressed to fingers to the skin, he felt a strong thump, and the man's skin was warm.

Carefully, Levianath knelt down next to his father and made to lift him, but suddenly the guy's eyes shot open and he sat up with a deep breath. Levianath startled back, hands yanking themselves away. Wraith coughed hard, winced, and shook his head as if that would rid him of whatever pain he was currently feeling. The captain turned his surprised stare to Levianath.

"I've just dreamt the most dreadful dream," the man said bluntly as he stood up on his own, and Levianath stood quickly as well, watching him carefully. Darkrunner lifted a single long black brow at his son, and then he quickly surveyed the area. "Where is our scaled friend?"

The man seemed fine, as if he hadn't been unconscious only thirty seconds ago.

Levianath blinked a couple times. "He grabbed Lily and fled."

"Coward," the pirate spat on the ground. Levianath was fairly sure despite the nighttime that the man had just spat blood. He swore he'd seen more blood and injuries today than he needed to in a lifetime. "And did young Julian last the attack?"

The look on Levianath's face, the way he couldn't answer that, made the captain nod understandingly. "All things heal in time."

"He suffered burns," said Levianath, realizing that the captain thought Julian had died. "But he survived. So far."

"Ah!" Wraith's face lit up. "Wonderful to hear. He will make it out of the woods, then. And Evenstar?"

Levianath gave a moment's pause. "Head injury. She is alive."

"Again, a relief to hear."

The captain's optimistic confidence for some reason bolstered Levianath's as well, gave him a sense of security that until this moment had been draining away. Fiammetta, Julian, and Reece, his three closest friends, were all hospitalized while he was left virtually unscathed—at least, physically so.

Wraith patted Levianath on the arm and offered a grateful smile, which was also laced with something akin to esteem. "I am immensely proud of you, Levianath Darkrunner. I hope my saying that does not offend."

"For what?"

"You handled yourself expertly tonight; you balanced your emotions with logic to the point of reaching a deadly potential. Also I should mention the way you respond to the names of the people you care about—it shows a strength that I know was not present when we first met. You are more than any father could ask for in a son. I can only hope someday I am permitted to consider you as such."

Levianath didn't respond verbally, but he did offer a humble, tentative nod. Wraith smiled characteristically and then headed off to speak with those remaining.

Before long the injured had been cleared out, and teams were working sweeps of the camp to make sure no one was left behind. A couple times now people had returned from the fortress with unnerved reports of demonic circle runes on the fourth floor, fearing involvement with the dragon, and every time Levianath had to pacify the fear and explain that it was his—and his demon's—doing.

After volunteering with one team for nearly an hour, the Warlock had now taken residence on the beach, where he sat in the sand and kept his eye on the skies, which were currently gaining the slightest touch of morning blue instead of endless black. He worried still that the scaled creature would swoop down and rain deadly fire; he would not feel safe until everyone in this area had been evacuated. The place smelled of smoke and death. In some spots, like where Julian had faced off against Duncan, the sand had been heated through fire to a warped, blackish glassy solid that shimmered now and then in the darkness, reflecting light of torches.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and peered up at its owner, his father.

"Come with me," Wraith requested, and Levianath stood and followed behind the man, out of the slave camp and off a ways into the sand, toward a decently-sized group of Rogues and pirates that had gathered there. They'd put about two hundred yards between themselves and the walls.

"What's going on?" asked Levianath curiously, glancing back toward the camp.

"Grand finale," announced the captain excitedly. "Safe distance is a must."

This peaked his interest. Levianath waited around with the large group as more and more people filtered out. The sky above them continued to lighten, becoming a greyish navy hue as the stars dimmed over time. Someone handed Levianath a hardened chocolate biscuit, and he glanced over to see it was Raphael Amaranth, the Rogue leader. Levianath took the cookie, but he watched the Rogue for a few seconds.

Raphael sent Levianath a quirk of his brow. "You must be hungry," he reasoned in a relaxed tone, one side of his mouth curling with his mustache. Raphael's black leather armor was dirty, sandy, and crusted in dried blood, but somehow he'd kept everywhere from his chest up completely clean.

Levianath blinked and looked back down at the cookie. "You brought cookies to an invasion?"

"What, can a man not reward his sweet tooth after a fight? Eat. You will feel better." He smiled playfully, "I made them myself."

Levianath returned a skeptical stare, and Raphael shrugged.

"I stress-bake."

Levianath blinked, allowing his own smirk to tug at his lips, and took a bite. It was exactly what it looked like: a chocolate cookie. Levianath had not eaten chocolate in so long he'd forgotten the taste.

Raphael leaned one forearm over Levianath's shoulder and let out a sigh. "I saw you fighting out there, and I must say I am jealous of your captain."

A confused glance made the Rogue grin and shrug his arm off of Levianath's shoulder. "I could really use a capable Warlock in my ranks. We are mostly Rogues, but I'd never turn down someone with skills like you showed out there." The Rogue sniffed humorously, the next part seeming half-joking, "Nor someone with a face like yours."

Levianath stared at the sly elf for a silent second as he took a bite of his cookie, and then a third joined their conversation.

"Paws off, Amaranth. Don't you dare corrupt this young man," one of Raphael's officers, a Blood Elf woman, sandwiched her entire body in between them. She turned toward Levianath, placing both of her hands on the side of his face. "He's so innocent and precious, and not a mark on him," she cooed.

Raphael held his hands up in response, laughing, and Levianath continued to chew his bite of cookie as the woman leaned in a little closer to speak to him, her thumb running along the trimmed hair on his chin. Their two pairs of fel green eyes studied each other, hers teasing and his somewhere between exhausted and amused.

"But between you and me," she winked, "we could use a new face to corrupt."

Wraith Darkrunner, in front of them, turned around, having heard the whole thing. "You know, as his father, I think I'm supposed to cut in and oppose this kidnapping attempt."

Raphael laughed aloud. "Kidnapping? More like enticing! I'm just being a gentleman and showing him he has options."

Wraith rolled his eyes. "You were two seconds away from clubbing him over the head and running off with him thrown over your shoulder. Grunting."

"Oh, please. I pride my ability to handle my affairs with far more finesse." For good measure, Raphael rolled one curled taper of his mustache in two fingers.

"Finesse? Nothing about this entire night has been handled with finesse," Wraith chortled, stealing a cookie from the Rogue. "Least of all, anything _you_ brag about." He pointed the cookie at Raphael as he said that, which Raphael the Rogue somehow swiped back in the blink of an eye.

"No cookies for you," Raphael teased the captain as he then handed it sideways to Levianath, speaking as he leaned in toward Levianath and smiled devilishly. "Come to the dark side," he coaxed the man teasingly, "we have cookies."

Wraith snickered boyishly as Raphael turned around to speak to someone behind him. Levianath innocently handed the cookie toward his father, who reached out to take it back. The second Wraith's fingers almost closed around the treat, Levianath yanked it back and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth, chewed once, and then offered his dad the biggest shit-eating grin he could muster.

Wraith burst into laughter, and Levianath had to juggle between laughing, chewing, and trying not to choke or spray his cookie. Wraith turned his attention off in Raphael's direction.

"Hey, I am a good seventy-five percent dark-side," Wraith called out after the Rogue. "That should constitute cookies. Captains deserve chocolate."

Laughing to himself at how whimsically simple this entire conversation had been despite their situation, Levianath caught movement beyond the group in his peripheral vision, a small form moving swiftly away from the camp and toward them, growing larger. Shortly he recognized it as Fleek Goldwell.

"Oy, Dynamite!" Fleek called out, "is it my turn now?" He was carrying a switch connected to a wire that stretched all the way back to camp.

The captain turned and laughed aloud. "Yes, it's your turn. What kind did you use, by the way? That was a lot."

"Remember Dustswallow Marsh three years ago?" Fleek grinned. "This'll make that look like we were playing with festival fireworks."

Levianath saw his father's eyes widen just the Goblin jammed his hand down against the detonation switch, and the ground let off a shudder under their feet as a massive 'crack' reverberated through the air.

The entire group stumbled backward as the distant camp blasted itself to pieces, starting from one end and shattering the walls and everything inside all the way to the other end. Levianath felt two sturdy hands keeping him from falling; Raphael had braced him and was the only thing keeping him from toppling over. Stone and cement burst in all directions in a fiery eruption, and half a second later, Levianath stared in shock as the fortress in the center exploded sky-high, the sound like a crack of lightning, and afterward followed a fiery plume that ballooned up and then turned to smoke. He could feel the heat reach his face from where he stood, felt the burst of pressure in the air, and in front of them he saw Fleek Goldwell throw his hands up and leap up and down in excitement. The entire group cheered, laughing, and Levianath watched as stone and dust and sand began to fall in a giant radius around the camp. Now he knew why they'd gone so far away—any closer, and they'd have been showered in giant hunks of rock.

The dust began to settle, and Levianath noticed now that Fleek's pyrotechnics had created a gigantic hole in the sandy ground, and water from the ocean had surged in and swirled into a sort of lagoon. Only a few chunks of the stone walls peeked above the surface, and the rest had been swallowed. Pink dawning sunlight began to toy at the tops of the walls and the sails of the captain's fleet off in the water, and suddenly, in that moment, Levianath finally felt a rush of relief.

They'd made it through the night. They'd defeated the slavers, taken down the organization for good. Of course, Duncan had escaped with the one girl they'd been trying to save this entire time, but if he ever tried to return here, all he'd get was a glorified swimming pool. Levianath did not want to think about Lily right now, though. He wanted to rejoice in the fact that they had, in a way, gotten what they came for. The slavers who'd turned his life upside-down were no more, and he hadn't felt this at-ease in a very long time.

As the group meandered off toward the boats to head to the ship, Fleek smacked his hands together satisfactorily and grinned his wide grin, looking more in that second like a Dwarf than a Goblin. "Now there's a job I should add to my resume."

* * *

If there was just one single word Levianath could use to describe the safe camp when he arrived, it would be "chaotic."

The closer he found himself to the healing wards, the less organized the place was, until he actually reached the door of one of the tents and felt like he'd found himself in the middle of a riot. Healers were handing off injured people and taking care of refugee ex-slaves, and the sound had reached a constant, shouting din.

Levianath, after being knocked about here and there, finally caught the attention of one of the Priests. The man had dark, thick brows and a very stern expression, but when he saw Levianath, he did perk up just enough to look like he wasn't about to catch someone on fire with his eyes.

"You," the Priest pointed at Levianath. "I have one of your friends here. This way."

Levianath nearly had to jog to keep up, dodging between other healers and now-recovered patients. When Levianath saw who the man led him to, he couldn't help but let a smile cover his face.

Julian was shirtless, sitting cross-legged in one of the cots, and trying to fend off a nurse who seemed intent on bandaging him.

"I'm fine!" he heard the boy retorting, batting the woman's hand away. "My dad healed me already. I don't even know why I'm here anymore."

"The skin is still very sensitive, especially to the sun," the woman argued back harshly. "Unless you want to be in pain every time you feel warmth, let me treat it."

Julian snorted and waved her off, and she finally let out a frustrated grumble and stuffed the ointment and bandage into her bag and set off to her next patient. Julian made a face, grumbled something unintelligible to himself, and then finally saw Levianath. He perked up vibrantly, holding his arms out in a welcoming gesture.

"He-ey!" he called out as Levianath reached his side. Levianath silently noted the intense, reddish, marbled scars that snaked their way up the boy's rib cage, shoulder, and halfway up his neck. The burned skin had been marbled and warped, seared to a slightly darkened color, and still painfully-red around the edges, but Julian seemed unfazed by it.

"Those are some gnarly scars you've got there," he motioned toward them.

Julian brightened, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah! Feel 'em!" He shoved his arm out, running one hand over the scar. "It's so cool, like alien skin!"

"Eh," Levianath held his hands up, "No, thanks."

Julian had noticed how Levianath paled at the sight of the scars, and he began to laugh playfully. "Aw, you think it's gross! I've never seen you grossed out by injuries!" He scooted closer to Levianath teasingly. "C'mon," he coaxed, "You know you wanna."

Levianath began to finally laugh. "No," he took a step back. "I don't want to touch your scars, weirdo."

"Have it your way," Julian shrugged. "You are missing out."

"How's Reece?" Levianath changed the subject, but suddenly a slightly pained look flickered across Julian's features in response.

"Uh," the boy seemed somewhat caught off-guard, and a few tiny, millisecond-long expressions of fear, pain, and apprehension flicked across his face. "She hasn't woken up yet. The Priests won't tell me anything until she does."

Levianath nodded carefully. "It'll be all right," he reassured. "She's strong and tough, and a fighter. The worst is behind you both."

Julian offered him a forced, fleeting smile, and he smiled back in return. A light tap on his shoulder made him turn, and he nearly lost his breath. Fiammetta was standing there, seemingly perfectly fine, save for an off-white bandage wrapped around her head and her right ear. She was offering him a partial smile against her tusks, and her eyes held his.

"Fiammetta," he let out a breath, feeling so much tension suddenly ease from his shoulders that he didn't know he'd been holding, and he reached one hand up to place on the base of her jaw. "You're alright?"

Her large blue eyes swallowed his, and she nodded simply. "I am."

He let out a laugh of relief. "And you can see?"

She nodded, the corners of her eyes crinkling with her smile. Levianath laughed again and pulled her into a tight hug, letting his eyes scrunch shut as he held her. She hugged him back, and he felt his worries trickling away with the warmth of her presence, the fact that she was alright. He pulled away just enough to press his lips to hers eagerly, practically showering her in his affection as he let his hand loop back up and grace the side of her face, his other hand wrapping around her waist and drawing her in tightly. Her kiss sent butterflies into his heart, and suddenly he couldn't get enough of her. It was only when Julian cleared his throat loudly beside them that Levianath was yanked back to the present, and they broke apart just enough that they weren't sharing air.

Levianath's voice was both happy and tender. "What's with the bandage, by the way?" he tucked away a stray lock of her royal blue hair that'd escaped the bandage.

"I just lost most of my ear," she shrugged lightly, as if that was nothing.

"Oh, is that all?" he teased, leaning in and brushing her nose with his.

"Well, I got a pretty nasty occipital concussion and was temporarily blind, too," she added in, equally-as-teasing.

Levianath cocked his head at her, almost unable to focus past her irresistible scent and the feeling of having her in his arms. "Well in that case we should probably take you to lie down somewhere quiet."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hm," he purred. "Quiet, and remote, with lots of blankets, and pillows... You know, I think I just happen to have a tent that would do perfectly."

Fiammetta let out a highly uncharacteristic giggle as Levianath scooped her up and swept her away.

* * *

**I'll have the next update up a lot quicker, hopefully. Until then, thanks for reading, friends! We've probably only got a couple more chapters remaining, but a lot has yet to happen for sure!**


	25. A Bitter Pill

**Hey all! Been a while, again, sorry. Got a lot on my plate! ****And to any readers who've PM'd me, I'll be able to get back to you soon, too. :)**

**Responses:**

**Ophianara: Ha! "Come to the dark side; we have Raphael," is probably just as persuasive an argument, isn't it? x) I might have to use that later on.**

**Zarabethe: Ooh man I can picture him just annoying the crap out of anyone who tries to write him a poem... The next chapter will be the second half of his sadness, and maybe that'll help even things out bwahhaha. And yes. Everyone wants a piece of that half-belf. I think there may be a line forming!**

**Suneeku: He so totally is. :D**

**Jay: YES! I will make it happen, I promise.**

**Raftina: Oh gosh, that would be the best propaganda picture in existence. I should put that on my list because that's AWESOME. xD **

**Psalty: Hahaha well, not quite forgotten, but...yeah. Basically. :D**

**Willowstar: Pffft crazy characters with unnatural coping habits are my favorites muahaha. Yeah, I was laughing to myself at the whiplash I was throwing at you guys when I published that chapter. :D And me too, there is no way I would actually want to visit Azeroth. I'm just a feeble magic-less human with only _some_ mixed martial arts training. I wouldn't last 3 seconds! x)**

* * *

Julian sat in a lazy, naturally-slumped position in his cot, watching how Levianath reacted to Fiammetta's presence. The man orbited that woman like his own personal star, and his eyes held such a tender, warm softness to them as he looked at her, a look Julian never thought he'd see on his friend. If Levianath had made that expression a few months ago, Julian would not have recognized him. Levi had changed drastically, as had Fiammetta. She seemed brighter, like her good traits had been intensified as well. The couple, when together, amplified each other's best. They didn't fit together like puzzle pieces; that would insinuate that one or both of them were incomplete. Julian thought they reminded him more of how the light of two lanterns shines brighter and farther than that of one alone. And their light shined pretty bright.

They mumbled back and forth shortly with obviously-suggestive expressions, and then Levianath scooped her up and swept her away in a flurry of laughter. Julian made a face and began to laugh to himself, running one hand over the scars on his skin like it was already a habit. The burns were still sensitive around the edges, like the skin was stretched thin and raw, but according to the healers he'd seared so many nerve endings that he wouldn't have any sense of touch in those spots. It was such a strange sensation, the numbness, feeling his bodily casing beneath his fingers as if it were someone else's.

He left the cot in case someone else needed it more and yawned tiredly, his eyelids feeling thick but his mind moving at full throttle. The Priests had told him they would fetch him when Reece woke; they hadn't allowed him to be with her, because he kept getting in the way. He couldn't help it that he took up so much space, in his defense.

No one, however, had fetched him yet, and he needed to see her. He just needed to see her, to lay eyes on her, to remind himself that she was going to be alright.

Wandering through a few different wards, he saw so many other people who'd also suffered the dragon fire, now on the mend. Some had burns on their faces that stretched and pulled at the skin and warped their expressions. He'd gotten lucky, he realized. His scars could, with full clothing, be mostly hidden. Others were not so fortunate.

One ward housed youngsters, all of them refugees from the camps. He recalled having seen a good handful of children tumble through the portal when he and Reece had manned it, and this had mortified him, the thought of _children_ staying in a place like that. It was already one thing to force people into hard labor, but to force a child to grow up in it? The thought had been gnawing at him all this time. He was just glad they'd gotten out when they had, and he wondered how many of the younger adults here had been brought up in the camps rather than taken captive, or if the slavers had been around that long.

Suddenly as he walked into a new section of the giant healers' tent, he saw her. He saw her scruffy brunette hair half-hidden behind other bedridden victims, and he paused as he saw that she was being tended to by three different people. One healer was currently hovering his hands over her abdomen, his face knit in concentration as he glazed a stream of Light across her. Another dwarven healer, next to the first human, had one stout hand placed on Reece's forehead as if she were checking temperature. And the last, an elven Priestess, was stirring something in a small, rounded wooden cup.

Reece herself looked weakened and there was still an excess of her blood on her cot and clothing, which alarmed him.

None of them noticed Julian there, and as much as he wanted to get closer, he could see they were all in the middle of something.

The man, after whatever it was he was doing ran out of power, finally relented the spell and took a breath, leaning both hands onto the side of Reece's bed and slumping his head down as if exhausted. Julian knew the healers had been working all night.

"Ye' may as well take a break fer a wee spell, Jotham," the dwarf suggested calmly, nodding her head toward a nearby empty cot. "Sit down an' rehydrate."

Jotham followed her suggestion, but he continued to stare at Reece's sleeping form from where he sat. His voice was a light, melodic treble. "There's so much foreign magic all muddied up in her that I can't tell what to feed and what to starve in order to bring her back to a normal state."

_Back to normal?_ Julian worried to himself. His ears perked as he watched on, still unnoticed; an unsuspecting elf teenager was the least of their concerns.

The dwarf watched over Reece for a quiet moment like a mother studies a sleeping child, and Jotham stood up determinedly and walked to her bedside, apparently giving up on the whole 'rest' thing. If there was one thing Julian appreciated right now, it was the determination in these healers' actions regarding Reece. They all seemed to regard her as their number one concern in this moment. As she should be.

"Poor thing is barely out of the cradle," the Priestess finally put in as she finished stirring the cup, and she leaned down and administered the contents to an unconscious Reece. "It is tragic enough she has lost her pregnancy; she does not need all of this magic mess-"

_"What?"_ Julian blurted out without thought, the elf's words shaking him so suddenly, and he walked toward them as they all jumped at his outburst. The dwarven woman straightened up and planted herself directly between him and Reece, her stance imposing.

"And who d'ye think you are, waltzing in here?" she implored, making a shooing motion with her hands. "Scram! This is a delicate affair!"

"I am her _husband_," Julian bit back, his throat tight, and a fleeting expression of remorse fell across her face before she recovered and stepped forward.

"Even so," she said, this time a lot less accusing, "ye shouldn't be here, not right now."

The elf Priestess approached Julian, her steps like liquid, and she seemed unfazed other than a partial expression of compassion resting on her smooth, ageless face. She placed her hand on his arm, looking for a half-second at the scars and then back at him. "You are Julian Silverpaw, yes?"

The redhead swallowed back his emotions as best he could, at least enough to where he could speak, and he nodded at her. "Yes."

"Can you wait with other family members while we take care of your wife?"

"I don't...think I can do that," he responded back. "Not until I know what's going on with her. You have to give me something."

Her eyes held his, and after a moment she gave him an acquiescing nod.

Julian hesitated before starting on his first question. "What is wrong with her?"

"She has received an overdose, so to speak, of energies. Her body will attempt to reject any additional magic, that includes our healing spells, until we have drawn out the offending energy."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"It is only a matter of time before we know for sure. As soon as Jotham can find a foothold in the foreign magic, he can remove it. In the meantime, I have administered to her an herbal tonic that should keep her in a state of sleep, with no pain. She is all right, for now."

The air in Julian's throat felt like he was inhaling dust as he opened his mouth for his third question. "And...the baby...didn't..." he trailed off, knowing they'd already answered his question. Honestly, he'd known it from the moment Reece had collapsed from the knife, but he'd still had hope. Now, he was simply floundering an attempt at prolonging the pain he knew would hit him when he accepted the truth.

She lifted her chin slightly, gave him a sympathetic look, and nodded quietly. "The combination of whatever shock she endured from her physical injuries and the stress her body took from the magic was too much. Thankfully, Jotham is a proficient healer, and once the point is reached where his heals are no longer rejected, her injuries should not pose any hindrance of further conception. Another chance will come."

Julian's brows tightened, curving upward, and he had to bite the insides of his cheeks just to keep his focus. "Okay. Thank you," he managed to get the words out right before his throat hitched in the form of an oncoming sob, which he managed to swallow down as he stumbled out of the tent and into the crowds. He didn't want to be alone right now. If he found himself alone, away from people, he would have nothing between himself and his pain, no cushion, and he would be left on his own to bandage his wounds.

Somehow he blindly found himself wandering into the flow of people through the camp. The hectic swarm had cleared substantially, with many of those who'd returned and recovered now headed off to their respective tents to rest.

Julian didn't even know where he was heading, or who he was trying to find. His feet continued at a deliberate pace as he passed housing tents. Anyone he could talk to right now was probably asleep. He _wanted_ to talk to Reece about it, and he wished he could, but the problem was that, for one, she was unconscious, and two, she was the topic of his grief. He couldn't put that on her, after what she'd been through.

He came across what he knew was Levianath's tent, almost bringing himself to tapping on it, but ultimately refrained. He couldn't do it, for some reason. Levianath just seemed so happy right now, and after everything Julian had seen the man experience, happiness was a rare gift. Julian refused to willingly get in the way of that, regardless of the fact that it felt like his entire body was resonating his own pain and he needed help.

What he really needed was to cry. He had not cried in some time, not since he cried with Reece. Not since their first kiss. And with everything that was going on inside his head, Julian had to vent somehow.

He didn't realize he'd just been standing there in front of Levianath's tent, staring at the doorway with a blank expression, until the door flap opened and revealed Levianath, walking out while tugging a tan shirt over his head. Levianath's eyes caught Julian's, and first a subtle smile fell on the man's face before promptly turning into a concerned-like frown.

"What's wrong?" Levianath asked in mild alarm, smoothing out his shirt slightly over his lean frame as he stared at Julian simultaneously.

Julian did his best to offer a smile, but it was weak, and it faltered after only a second before quivering. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but no words came, just an unexpected sob forcing itself up from his chest.

His friend without question reached out and took him by the arm, pulled him a ways off behind their tent so they were slightly hidden, and made him sit down on a bench. He sat down beside him and, without words, studied Julian's expression. Julian tried his hardest to rein in his emotions; he didn't want to cry in front of Levianath, and he didn't know why.

But then Levianath's expression took an empathetic, sad edge to it, and the man reached his arms out and actually hugged him, a wordless promise of support.

If Julian had any control over himself up to this point, it all shattered when his friend hugged him.

He let the stress of everything that'd happened in the last twelve hours shackle him and break his spirit, and he began to cry. He sat there on the bench with his back to the tent, with Levianath's arms curled around him hugging tightly. He let his head hang and gripped his hands on Levianath's forearms, sagging against him. The world careened beneath him. His tears hit the wood of the bench, the sounds he made nothing more than grief-stricken gasps and soundless, choking sobs that shook his entire body. His eyesight was blurry, nose becoming useless as he cried, and he felt the pain stretching out from his heart and tightening around his throat.

He heard Levianath say something in a quiet voice, but it sounded like he was speaking to someone else. Julian's comprehension was shot to bits, and he couldn't understand what the man had said. He continued to fall apart, and Levianath squeezed the hug tighter.

He had watched his love bleed to death in his arms. He had seen her final breath escaping her lips, and he had felt its weight crush him. He'd had his sanity and his heart torn into tiny, irreparable shreds as he'd watched a man he loved as his own brother sacrifice his life in exchange for hers. The loss of both of them had broken something inside him, but just as suddenly he'd been expected to get up, shake it off, and function, and so he did. Because he had to, he had shoved all of that pain into the depths of his mind, but now it was pouring out with no filter and no control. He'd seen more death and more violence in that one night than he'd expected to in a lifetime. He hadn't been able to process it until this point, but now not only was he dealing with all of that, he was also mourning a family. His only solace lay in the fact that Reece was alive and nearby.

That she was unconscious and ailing did, however, taint that smidgen of hope considerably.

He sobbed, resting his forehead against the support of Levianath's chest. He could feel a subtle warmth of sunrise now catching his skin, warming and brightening the world around him, but he still felt stuck in a cold, dark pit of uncertainty and heartbreak. He'd never known this side of life existed. He had never understood those people who just couldn't be happy, or those who barely ever cracked a smile, like Levianath when he'd first met him. Now he wondered if he ever would again. This all hurt far, far too much for him to even dream about it fading.

Numbness came as a relief, eventually. His tears could no longer fall at this time, and although he felt that horrible ache in his chest, he managed to breathe in slowly and breathe out. Then he did so again, and again. He slowly lifted his head, ignoring the sudden pain from the stiffness of the way he'd been sitting there for who knows how long. Levianath let him pull away, the look on his face oddly empathetic, like he knew the same feeling.

"What's happened? Reece alright?" Levianath asked in an unobtrusive tone, extremely mild and gentle.

Julian took a few beats to gain his bearings, wiping his eyes off with his sleeves and then letting out a sigh.

"Um," he said in a very shaky manner, "well, we lost the...baby," he tightened his jaw. Levianath's expression flickered in sorrow that mirrored his own, but he didn't say anything yet. Julian took another wobbly breath. "And she's still sick; they don't know when they can get her to wake up. She looked so weak, Levi," he worried, "and there was so much...blood." He felt himself tear up again, "Our stupidity cost us a life."

Levianath's eyes, so pained and intense, were the only thing on his face showing any expression at all at this point; every other feature was locked tight, firm and straight, hard and unwavering as steel. Julian winced, knowing that just a half an hour ago, Levi had been laughing with Fia. Then he had shown up and ruined it all.

"I'm s-sorry," Julian stuttered suddenly, withdrawing, and made an attempt to stand as his mouth worked faster than his mind. "I don't, I mean, I didn't mean to-" he sucked in a gasping breath as he spoke even faster, putting a hand to his forehead as his fingers curled into his hair and his other hand moved expressively with his words. "It's just that I s-saw you d-die, and I saw h-her die and I am not handling it p-properly, but you don't need any of thi-"

"Stop, sit," Levianath ordered, reaching out and pushing Julian's shoulder down, forcing him to plop back down on the bench. "Don't you worry about me. You're going to sit here and let us help you."

Julian sniffed heavily as he sat there, stuck somewhere between crying and laughing at the situation he was currently in. Being forced to accept psychological therapy from Levianath Darkrunner was an experience he never thought he'd have.

Levianath rubbed Julian's shoulder comfortingly. It was odd, the affection, but Julian appreciated it more than he expected to. It felt as if the action, coming from Levianath, held more substance. "I know you probably realize this already," said the half-elf, "but I want you to understand that we're all safe and well. I am very sorry for putting you through everything that happened, but it's over now. We're _all_ going home soon." The man hesitated a second, smirking, "Of course, it would've gone quite differently if you and Reece had stayed where you belonged here in camp, but that's beside the point, and I do think that chiding you on your choices would be a bit redundant, and unnecessary."

Julian returned with a sheepish look, still unable to smile. Levianath sobered just a single degree.

"You know, when that dragon attacked you, Julian, I thought you were dead, too," he murmured, and then snapped his fingers once. "Bam, fire and death, just like that. Though it fared only a couple seconds, it was without a doubt the worst couple seconds of my life. So if what you're feeling is anything similar to what I felt, I am very sorry."

Julian swallowed hard and stared at his friend. "Is...is it alright if I hug you again?"

Levianath let out a soft, unusual chuckle and nodded, reaching out and somehow managing to wrap the boy under his arm, even though Julian was physically bigger.

"I don't know if my saying this means much to you or not, but I love you, Julian. I can count on one hand with fingers to spare the number of people to which I've said that, so you know I mean it," he chuckled quietly. "I'm going to be here for you, alright? Me, Fiammetta, everyone. We love you and Reece; you're the most lovable pair on the face of this world." The man smiled to himself, and then regained his sincerity, "We'll do everything we can to make things easier, if possible."

Julian felt his chin tremble, and what was almost a smile pushed its way onto his mouth for a few fleeting seconds until two more faces entered their view.

"Mom," Julian said in what was nearly a question, his voice cracking on the single word, like it had dried out. Norivana and Fiammetta had shown up, with Fia leading. Norivana offered Julian and Levianath a knowing smile, and held her hand out to her son.

"Hi," his mother greeted him simply, and he reached out and took her hand as Levi's arm slipped from his shoulder. The woman pulled him upright and led him through camp by hand to her tent, ducking inside and motioning for him to sit on a mushed-up pile of blankets and furs that doubled as a floor chair. She sat across from him after retrieving a handful of something from her backpack near the corner. She held her closed fist out to him, and he opened a palm, only to receive a good helping of dried fruits.

She popped one small piece in her mouth, chewed, and then spoke in a conversational tone, a hint of humor present underneath. "So, how's life?"

Julian finally let a quiet, genuine laugh of his own surface, and he relaxed enough to eat a piece of fruit. "Putting me through a wringer," he made a face.

Norivana sighed. "What a jerk."

Again, the boy let out another helping of laughter. "Total ass." He watched his mom for a few seconds. He could see her smile, but he could also see the pained tension behind her eyes as she stared at him. "What is it?" he coaxed as he paused the chewing of his fruit.

She stared at him a second and then frowned and shook her head. "I really don't want to scold you at a time like this, Julian, after everything that's happened to you, but I'll be damned if that wasn't the stupidest thing you have ever done, running into the slave camp with Reece."

He too frowned and looked at the ground.

She kept talking, somewhat hurriedly as if trying to just get it over with like ripping adhesive from skin. "You have no training and no experience in something like that, and what you did almost got you and those you care about killed. I hope you never have to experience the pain and fear of losing a child like that, Julian."

A few silent seconds passed, and then she spoke again, her voice softer.

"But," she said at last, "as far as handling yourself in a fight against a dragon, that was very brave, holding your magic against his fire for that long, especially after he'd already burned you first. And you did everything you possibly could, sacrificed nearly all you had, to aid Lily. What happened to her was tragic, but it could not have been helped. You were a hero, Julian, as short-lived the result may have been."

Julian picked at a string on the blanket at his feet, a select few of her words still stinging slightly. "Do you think we will find her ever again?"

Norivana seemed to withdraw a bit. "At this point I have no idea how we will," she confessed quietly.

He waited a few heavy moments and then nodded slowly, letting out a sigh. "To be honest," he finally confessed in an incredibly quiet tone, almost a whisper, like he didn't want to hear himself admit the words he was about to say. If his sister were here he'd never say them aloud. This was her close friend he was talking about. "I think part of me is glad it's over and she's gone. I find myself hoping-..." he trailed off, not allowing himself to go further.

His mother watched him. "Hoping what?"

Julian looked up at her, brows curving sadly. "I hope I never see her again. Lily's the reason Reece is hurt. She got violent and pushed her into a knife. We'd put so much energy into helping her, and she threw it in our faces. She's the reason we lost-"

Again, he broke his sentence.

His mother looked so confused, and he felt his pain etching itself into his face. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to tell her Reece had been pregnant. The only other people who knew were Levianath and Fiammetta. He needed to tell her; she was his mother, for goodness' sake, but he couldn't do it. He felt like he didn't have the right to, and even if he did, he couldn't bring himself to say it aloud again.

He flexed his fingers a few times, staring at his hands as silence fell. He heard his mom get up, and she walked to him and sat down beside him, tucking his shaggy hair behind one ear. He felt his eyes sting, and he clenched his jaw, his knee bouncing of its own accord.

Norivana nurturingly brushed her fingers along his hair a few moments and then spoke. "Part of falling in love with someone is realizing that someday, somehow, you will lose her. It could be anytime, but with humans, it is inevitable. Now, fifty years from now..." she trailed off, and Julian felt a tear trickle down his face. She looked down at the ground, still holding him. "Reece is human, Julian. She is frail, and you have to know that this pain you're feeling is an inevitable part of loving her. I just hope you understand that this choice you've made, the choice to be with her, is going to surely affect you down the line. Reece is going to leave this world before you. However, you are not going to lose her now; you still have many years with her, I know it."

"I know, I know she's human, and it's unfair," he put his head in his hands. "She is a person, like me. Her mind is like mine, but for some reason her...her vessel is weaker than mine, and that's why we're going to be torn apart. It's stupid, and it's unfair."

"It is," Norivana nodded. "But I am glad you understand. And, like I said, Reece isn't going to die now, Julian."

He swallowed hard and nodded silently.

His mother kissed his forehead. "Get some rest; we all need it."

He sniffed once and nodded, receiving a welcome hug before he left the tent and returned to the healers' ward. He sought out Reece and found her the same way he left her, and after standing around a bit he found a quiet corner and curled up there. His exhaustion caught up with him within seconds, and he slept where he sat.


	26. Surrender

**_Iron &amp; Wine_ makes the best romangst writing fuel. Also it's storming outside my window as I write this. Sixty degrees and storming. Absolute perfection. I'm basically in heaven. Just thought I'd share that. ;)**

**ALSO**

**Everyone go check this out right now: ****s/11166916/1/A-Letter-to-Reece**

**The lovely and amazing Zarabethe gifted it and it is _so_ good. I can't express how much I love it. :D Go, read it! Now! ;)**

**Responses:**

**LadyRaftina: Actually it's pretty damn near the end at this point! We've got some big final ending things and epilogues, but... yes. Such mystery. Many wow.**

**Ophie: Yesss, she's so doomed. Hahaha. And Duncan gets an epilogue in this story. He's not done yet. xD**

**Zarabethe: He's pretty lost at this point :( And I know I already got all excited and said this but YOUR LETTER WAS SO FANTASTIC I CAN'T HANDLE IT.**

**psalty: AHH. Freaking Ruby! She was good up until the point that I suddenly despised her entirely. Poor Sam. :( At least he married her in real life and now they have gorgeous bebehs.**

**Jay: And pretty dramatic. Which is nothing compared to this chapter or the following but then it's all rainbows.**

**Suneeku: You could say that again!**

**Hattie-KelThuzad: HEY I play on KelThuzad sometimes. :D My Mage Edoril is on that realm. Anywho, thank you! I'm glad you like my OC men. xD **

**Den of Meade: Oh gosh, can you imagine if I ended it there, though? I'd reach FF's no. 1 most hated list. Bwahaha. And thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed them all. It's been quite a journey writing them :)**

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**To all readers: Thanks for reading, commenting, favoriting, following, and anything else. :) **

**Also this chapter is short, but the following one is already written and ready to go. Gird your loins, this one's dramatic.**

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As Levianath watched Julian being led away by his mother, Fiammetta sat down at his side on the bench, taking Julian's place.

Levianath ground his teeth together when Julian disappeared, and he finally turned his head toward the half-troll next to him. He tried to muster an attempt at a smile, but it wouldn't come. His eyes flicked down to her hands in her lap.

"Reece lost her pregnancy," he murmured quietly, deep in thought.

Fiammetta responded by letting out a heavy, solemn breath. "I had a feeling."

Levianath lifted his gaze up to hers, tilting his head a little and studying her face. She still wore her bandage over the one ear, had a few scabs and cuts on her face, but other than that looked fully recovered. Her eyes glanced to his, reading him, and with that she stood, taking one of his hands in hers and leading him back into their tent. At this point, he needed sleep so badly it was almost criminal, and he barely felt his own feet falling against the ground step by step.

By the time they entered her tent, he was practically half asleep, but instead of leading him to the bedding, Fiammetta made him stop and stand in front of her in the middle of the tent.

He met her gaze, and saw that she was giving him an unreadable but not particularly warm look. He immediately felt the barriers in his mind beginning to climb, to shut her off, even before she'd said a single thing.

"What's on your mind?" he asked her tiredly.

"What happened up there in the tower, Levianath?"

He processed her words, let his brows lift slightly as he glanced at the ground, and then sighed. "Where do I start?"

A heavy pause.

"I overheard you and Julian. How about where you apparently let yourself die?"

The sides of his jaw pulsed out once as his teeth met each other, but he didn't say anything, just looked back up at her blue gaze.

"How long," she began, her tone not at all angry, but it still elicited a cringe from him, "how long did it take you to decide your life was less valuable than hers?"

He bit the insides of his lips. He felt her right hand cup the side of his face, her fingertips like velvet on his skin, and he let his eyes flicker shut at the contact. Every part of him was aching to shut her out right now, if nothing else to just block out his feelings.

"Levianath," she coaxed, her tone low, "how could you?"

"What?" he finally spoke, eyes opening.

"What if it had been permanent? How could you have done that to me?"

His expression gained a hint of worry, and slight remorse. "Fia-,"

"Did you not think I would be affected by something like that?" she butted in. "That losing you would _break_ my heart?" Those last three words were laced in pain.

An abrupt, harsh wave of intense feelings hit him right there, with those words of hers. Feelings he'd never felt swarmed his mind. He couldn't tell if they were good or bad, but they rendered his voice useless and pricked tears into his eyes. The look on her face mirrored the maelstrom inside him, and suddenly, as he stared at the woman before him, his world snapped. His world, as he knew it, was gone, replaced by her. Maybe it had been like that for a while, but until now, he had not seen it.

Her voice at this point simply magnified the feelings he felt, and as she spoke, a small tear escaped a corner of Levianath's eye and created a trail down his cheek, ending at the tip of his chin.

"I'm not sure how or when it happened to either of us, but I know you love me, Levianath. I know you feel as I do," her voice wavered on his name as she caught his tear on his cheek, and then she continued in a far-less-contained manner. "And I know you are terrified of it; someone like you would much rather scare everyone off and block everyone out the second things reach the point of where they are now. And when today I heard about how you tried to sacrifice your life for Reece's, it all fit together; it all made sense. You wanted an escape. You wanted to get out before you got hurt, is that it?"

He turned his face to the side, looking at the ground, eyes tight, but she took his face in her hands gently and turned it toward her again.

The half-troll's eyes welled with tears. "You can't pull that with me. You can't push me away. You can't run off and hide your own fears behind being a hero, behind sacrificing yourself. Because all I see in you when you do that is a coward. All I see is you taking what you think is the easy way out."

This was the first time he'd heard her speak vulnerably, the first time her strong tone had been affected by whatever was going on in her heart. And all it did was fuel his own emotions until he could not bear them, until they were bursting at the seams. As a response, he couldn't help but start to bury everything, blocking it all off and disconnecting. He barely noticed he was doing it, didn't realize how immediately he'd shut her off in his mind, how he'd blocked the pain.

"Look, it's been a long day, night, and morning. Can we just go to bed-" he said quietly, dismissively, but she cut him off.

"There you go again," she tightened her jaws. "Once - just once - I want to talk this through without sidetracking one way or another - which, I'll add, you're way too good at doing. We can't just sleep together every time you want to avoid something, as fun as that might be."

He let his eyes fall shut tiredly, internally flailing for a means of escape. "Honestly, why are you trying to change everything, Fia? It's all great right now. I'm sorry for what I did, but that doesn't mean we need to hash out things that don't need brought to the surface. And your timing, not to mention, is awful."

"This, between us, is _not_ great," she corrected him, stepping in closer to him and speaking surprisingly softly, despite how fierce her expression was. "Levianath, you let yourself die. I'm sure there were many reasons behind it, but one of them was definitely the matter of you and me; of us. Every time I try to bring up our feelings regarding one another, you literally bolt. And now it's reached the point of you killing yourself, and that's crossing a completely new line."

"But I'm still here! _I'm not dead_!" he cut in, finally snapping sharply, his vivid green eyes flaring up. "Why the hell is this such a huge issue, Fia? You're lecturing me, accusing me of something that doesn't even matter! I didn't die, everything worked out alright, and we're all alive and it's _fine_! Why do you have to ruin it? Why can't you just leave things the way they are-?" His voice broke on that question, and he had to stop speaking for the sake of his composure. Through every word out of his mouth, his mind screamed at him to stop. He knew he was wrong; he knew that she was right, and yet he couldn't say it aloud.

"If we leave things the way they are, this is going to crumble," she retorted sternly.

Levianath's hands curled at his sides. "And yet this, right now, is supposed to do the opposite?" He pointed between them. "If anything, you're promoting animosity between us."

His next words came out of his mouth before he could stop them: "Listen, the sex is unreal, and it's been a great run, but if you're going to name me your new head case and try to diagnose me, I should probably let you down easy."

She gave him an exasperated glare, and sighed. "Now you're being an ass."

He held his hands out to the sides snidely, "And there she finally knows the real me. How's it feel?"

"Quit it," Fiammetta warned him.

"Can't handle it? I understand," his lip curled. "Probably best we part ways before it gets uglier."

"Stop!" she barked, "I can see what you're trying to do, Levianath. It's not going to work."

"All I'm doing is giving you a taste of what you asked for."

"All you're doing is hurting yourself!" she exclaimed, stepping in close to him again and placing both hands onto his torso. "And you're afraid; we both are. But you need to _stop_. Stop-" she grasped at words for a moment, her blue eyes darting as she thought, "-sabotaging everything the moment things become serious, the moment you feel happiness. Prove yourself wrong; prove to yourself that you're not that frightened, angry man you were when I met you. You hold so much love in your heart," her voice became pleading, "but you _must_ find a way to let go of your anger and your scars and your pain, or you're going to lose it all."

Levianath recoiled from her and forced her hands to drop, turning his face to the side so he wouldn't have to see her expression. He took a few heavy, deep breaths, and then finally looked back at her. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Levianath, I'm almost a century old. You know I know what I'm talking about. I have seen someone I loved, someone a lot like you, fall prey to the exact same affliction you're suffering. I let him pull all the same shit you're trying to pull, and I let him walk away, and it is my biggest regret. I will _not_ let you go down that road. Goodness' sake, I will drag you by your freakishly-shiny hair the opposite way if I have to."

He exhaled shakily, staring at her. Silence fell for a full, slow sixty seconds as Levianath's thoughts began to weaken, and finally he swallowed hard and spoke. His voice was nothing more than a whisper. "I can't...I can't let it all go."

"Can't, or won't?"

"I can't," he pleaded, a little louder, his voice cracking. "I can't, Fia. Not yet."

Her stare seemed to invade his every thought, and he resisted looking away. Finally, she softened. "Let me carry it with you at the very least, then. You're not alone anymore. Ever. You're safe, Levianath. Just..." she finally allowed a tear to fall after everything. "Just give me the chance _I_ deserve."

Levianath's expression betrayed him, and he gasped a breath at her words. He felt his heartbeat quicken even more until it thudded in his ears, felt himself become weakened, not only in body but in mind. Abruptly he became fully aware of what he'd been saying, and that he'd been saying those nasty things to _her,_ and he suddenly broke, all of his defensive walls shattering and crumbling around him as he stared at the woman before him.

Her hands went to his jaws before he could say a thing; he knew if he opened his mouth, no words would come. Her tone was soft, but firm. "You're so terrified of disappointment and rejection; you lack faith in yourself, and you believe all you're going to do is let us down. Most of all is a matter of trust, and the fact that you don't offer it to anyone, not even yourself." She then drew his hands into hers, thumbs running over his knuckles, and drew closer to him until they were nearly touching top-to-bottom. "But if you let me, Levianath, I will stay by your side until the end of time. All I ask for is your trust." Her tone was a quiet plea, and he knew that she was on her final straw. If he backed out now, he would lose her forever.

His jaw remained firmly locked, but his face flickered in a raw, passionate agony, and his breathing quickened as his mind fought an internal war between what he'd been ingrained to do, and what his heart was desperately grasping for.

"Just give me the time I need to earn it; give me that," she pleaded. "Let me make your love worth it. Don't push me away."

Seconds ticked by as he tried to speak. Their eyes were the only things that moved for a heavy few moments, flicking between each other, and Levianath suddenly wished he could find a way to just let her in. He hated cutting people off; he hated cutting _her_ off, particularly. And now she was forcing him to choose between continuing to do so, or having her in his life. That was what it boiled down to, right there. And the answer required no thought at all.

He finally let his mouth open, gave a single, broken, quiet breath, and drew her into his arms, wrapping them around her tightly and burying his face into her neck. She returned his hug generously, arms tightening when his breath hitched as he wept. He tried his hardest to get a grip, but it became hard to breathe and all he could do was clutch his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry. I'm s-so sorry. I'm-" he cried desperately. He'd never felt so raw.

She pulled away just enough to catch his mouth in her own, to cancel his words, before eventually returning to the hug. "I know," she nodded, holding him.

"You have to promise, Fia," he finally coaxed the words from his mouth, slightly muffled against her shirt. "St-stay."

She pulled away, placed her hands on the sides of his face, and locked expressive eye contact with him, then nodded once. "I'm going nowhere, as long as you swear to do the same."

The corners of his mouth pulled upward despite his current tattered state, and he pulled her in snug and crushed his lips to hers, gingerly wrapping his fingers at the back of her bandaged head and clinging to her fiercely. They lost themselves in one another then, and eventually found themselves tangled between blankets and bedding. Levianath surrendered to her entirely; his heart was placed in her hands, and it was both terrifying and breathtakingly liberating. Even after they both were spent, the feelings of intense devotion in him only grew stronger.

Eventually as the pair were nearing sleep, Levianath gazed at her steadily, now almost entirely at peace. She was draped underneath his arm, her body heat nearly bringing him to the point of just shucking all of their blankets. Damn Trolls and their warmth.

He let out a quiet hum of contentment.

At the sound of his voice, she stirred, pressing her tusked lips against his chest and eliciting an involuntary purr-like rumble from his chest. He inhaled a quiet, slow breath, letting his eyes flicker shut as he craned his head down and breathed in the scent of her blue hair. When he soon spoke, his tone held hints of playfulness.

"So...wait, you love me too, right?" he teased quietly. "I mean, I don't want this to be lopsided here."

Her quiet laughter warmed him. "Did 'end of time' mean anything to you? Do you want us to repeat all of that?"

He quirked a brow at her, mouth forming a partial smirk. "Maybe not all of it, but the past fifteen minutes would be nice."

Her eyes softened with a tusked smile that brightened the entire tent. "I love you."

"Mmm," he groaned, craning in, scooping her up close against himself and tickling her mouth with his own. "Say it again."

She did.

He grinned. "Is three times an overkill or can I relish in this?"

Fiammetta grinned back at him. "I love you, my dark, handsome, infuriating Warlock."

"And I love you, my exotic, breathtaking pirate," he hummed, and kissed her again.

* * *

**Next chapter coming later tonight! Thanks all for being patient.**


	27. Return

**This chapter leaves off with a cliffhanger. I sincerely apologize. ;)**

**Responses: **

**Zarabethe: Yay! I almost didn't write it at all, but I felt so strongly that something was missing. I knew Levi wasn't just going to roll over and be sunshine and rainbows for the remainder of the story, because stuff like that doesn't just disappear. But now we get a little closure on it.**

**Willowstar: Haha, Lev didn't even think about it like that either. xD**

* * *

Julian sat across from Levianath at one of the makeshift picnic tables in the camp. They'd spent nearly that entire day helping move camp items onto the ship for transport, and the heels of their feet ached from the work. The leaders had decided to keep the camp functioning, though, until the hospital ward either cleared out or was in a favorable state to be moved elsewhere. Most of the injured had been healed and recovered, but there were still a handful of people requiring round-the-clock observation. That included Reece.

The two young men currently were eating a meal of freshly-caught fish and Mage's bread, mostly in silence, the both of them too worn out to say much right now. Once they had a little food in their bellies, things might change, but in the meantime, they were beat.

Julian scarfed down his food without really tasting it, staring partially at the table and partially at his friend, who had his head turned to the side and was watching the other people around them. Levianath's eyes squinted under the light of the beating Tanaris sun, his dark brows tensed but not necessarily harsh. He looked deep in thought. Julian knew that whatever it was the man was looking at, he wasn't actually looking at it.

Abruptly, the two were joined at their table by the Rogue leader, who brought with him a platter of what looked like eggs, and in another hand was a small plate of cookies, and under one arm was a large canteen. He set everything down in front of the boys, and then sat next to Levianath.

"Hard-boiled," Raphael pointed at the eggs, which still had their shells. "Peel 'em and eat 'em."

They both made faces of gratitude and reached out, cracking the peels and shucking them to get to the soft meat. Levianath was the first to speak in response to Raphael's arrival, and he nodded his head toward the cookies.

"More stress baking?" His tone was lilted playfully.

Julian looked at him funny, but Raphael dismissed the question with a lighthearted scoff.

"No. I am not stressed; therefore, I do not bake. These are no-bakes."

"What kind are they, then?" Julian piped in.

"I told you," Raphael smirked, his curled mustache seeming to curl more with his lips, "they are no-bake cookies. Otherwise known as oatmeal clusters."

Levianath sputtered in a half-snicker, and Raphael grinned at his amusement, then handed him the canteen. "Conjured water, anyone?"

Julian nodded and reached across the table to take it. Conjured water always seemed sort of fizzy, almost carbonated, but it did quench the thirst adequately. As he took a deep drink, he caught movement in the corner of his eye, and two seconds later, felt two tiny hands plant themselves on the side of his leg. He set the canteen on the table and peered down to see a toddler, just barely of walking age, leaning against him for support. He was Draenei-born, with sky-blue skin and white eyes, and a mess of curly black hair. A big smile had planted itself on his round cheeks, and he reached one hand up toward the table, stretching with all his might in an attempt to reach the food he could no doubt smell.

"Why hello there," Julian laughed.

"Friend of yours?" Levianath asked teasingly, and Julian shrugged, looking back at the table.

"He wants our food."

"Can he...eat it?" Levianath asked hesitantly. "Like, maybe an egg?"

Raphael let out a hearty laugh. "He has teeth, does he not? He eats food." The Rogue reached out and peeled an egg, then handed it to Julian, who handed it to the toddler.

The tiny Draenei seemed very pleased, and he let out a happy coo and plopped down right where he'd stood, gnawing on the squishy food. Julian made a quick sweep of the area in an attempt to find parents, but he saw none.

The baby, after a minute, lost hold of his prize, and it tumbled down into the sand, which stuck to it. He picked it back up, and before anyone could react, there it went right back into his mouth.

All three guys jumped at this, which surprised the toddler enough for him to pause what he was doing.

"Eww," Julian took the egg from the baby, wiping the sand from his mouth quickly. "Ugh that's gross, you don't want to eat that! It can't be good for you!" he tossed the egg aside without really thinking. The child immediately gained a frown, his eyes becoming large, lower lip poking out, chin just starting to quiver enough to make all of them feel immensely guilty.

Julian lifted the baby before he had a chance to start wailing, and set him on the table so he was facing him and his little hooves hung over the edge, over Julian's lap. They gave him a new egg, and just like that, all was solved.

At this point, Julian still had not seen anyone coming to fetch the child, and he became concerned. "Where are his parents?"

"This one's an orphan," put in Raphael nonchalantly as he nibbled on an oatmeal treat.

"What?" Julian asked in a disbelieved, saddened tone.

"How do you know?" Levianath asked skeptically.

Raphael sent Levianath a quirk of his brow. "It is a job of mine to know everything, Warlock. There are four orphaned babies from the slave camp here in Tanaris. That is one of them."

Julian frowned, looked back at the baby, but then couldn't help but let a smile cover his face as he watched the tiny person make a mess of the egg he was eating. The baby held not a care in the world.

When the three elves had their fill of food and conversation, Julian took the baby back to the healers' ward. He was greeted by one of the healers there, a human who appeared to be in her late fifties.

Julian spoke before the lady could ask questions. "Hey, umm," he glanced at the kid in his arms. "This little guy was wandering around; does he belong..here?"

She took one look at Julian, one look at the baby, and then turned her head to the side.

"Sue!" she called out harshly.

"What!" the voice barked back.

"You're fired!"

"What!?" the woman in question appeared, looking frazzled, and then she laid eyes on the baby. "Oh, little Maverick! There you are!"

The woman in charge glared at Sue. "Tell me, how does one lose a baby?"

"I thought he was here!" Sue argued defensively.

"That does you absolutely no credit." The woman simply shooed her away, and then regarded Julian again. "What is your name, boy?"

"Julian Silverpaw."

"Silverpaw!" she brightened up just enough to not be frowning. "I know you, of course. Can you watch the little ones for us until the next shift? A spot just opened up."

Julian nodded then, happy to help, but felt a little awkward as he watched Sue shuffle away.

He spent hours with the children, until finally, _finally_, he had each one of them asleep for the night. He'd never felt so accomplished; tucking in four children under the age of two turned out to be no mere task.

Just on time, the matron returned and thanked him, taking over his job and sending him off to sleep. Again, he sought out Reece, and slept near her in one of the empty cots.

* * *

The following morning, the redhead was recruited by the head matron to take over Sue's spot just for the week they'd spend there until the camp filtered out and they could relocate the children to the orphanage in Stormwind. Seeing as he'd been dying to find some way to keep himself occupied, he was more than willing to watch over the four little ones. They were all around the age of the children back home, and he felt familiar in taking care of them.

Despite spending the following week juggling his time between babysitting and helping the refugees get their affairs in order, he still found himself feeling desolate at the end of each day, would still find himself returning back to Reece's bedside to see her just the same as he'd left her. He wondered if this was how his family had felt when he himself had been in a coma. That coma had lasted nearly an entire year; he couldn't imagine the agony he might be in if Reece were gone that long. He could only pray she wouldn't be. He just wanted her back. At this point, all the pain of everything else was nothing compared to her absence. Everything else in time would heal, as long as he had her with him. Otherwise he had no idea how he'd manage.

The four toddlers he'd been assigned to were complete handfuls, though, and while caring for them he did feel warmer, brighter, and happier than anytime else during the week. He knew he wasn't supposed to choose favorites, but ever since the little Draenei boy, Maverick, had stumbled upon him during his supper, he'd sort of developed a soft spot for him. Maverick was the oldest of the four just by a few months; he couldn't say much, but he did call Julian 'Loolie,' which caught on with the other three and stuck. Even some of the nurses started calling him that, first as a joke, but by the end of the week it seemed he'd gained a new nickname. He would occasionally, when he was off-duty, take little Maverick with him to see Reece. Julian spoke with Reece all the time as if she were there, awake, and told her all about the kids, and at the end of the week how all of them but Maverick had been introduced to new parents, those being refugee couples from the slave camps. He 'introduced' her to Maverick despite her state, shared entertaining highlights about the happenings each day in the camp with the orphans, and basically kept her entirely informed of just about everything one can think of.

As for the refugees from the slave camps, there were nearly one hundred and fifty who had no place to go, no home to return to, and nothing to their names. It came as a shock to everyone, then, when none other than Raphael Amaranth himself procured an outrageously-generous donation of money to be divided among the remaining people so that they could start new lives. Julian had no idea that the man even had that much money; he certainly didn't flaunt it, didn't give any hints toward being so wealthy, but it made sense that the leader of a century-old guild would have that saved up. Raphael had claimed that his donation barely made a dent and that he had more money than he knew what to do with, but he could see by the expressions of the man's officers that it was a heftier percentage than he'd let on. It'd changed Julian's perception of the guy; not a lot, but enough now that he saw what his older sister saw in him, why she seemed to adore him.

By the end of the week, the nurses had discharged everyone but Reece. The camp had been taken apart and basically dissolved, moved out, and the refugees were sent off by way of portals. Captain Darkrunner had his entire crew now accounted for and everything loaded back onto his ship, and now all that remained was the simple act of leaving Tanaris.

Darkrunner and Lucian had spoken with Reece's nurses about everything regarding her predicament, and they all decided it would be best to move her back to the orchard with the Druids; it was the safest, quietest place they could take her, as opposed to being on the ship. The healers would stay with her and monitor her until she woke.

As far as moving back to the orchard went, Julian didn't let Reece out of his sight. His father provided portals straight to the main tree, and other members of the tribe assisted them in setting up a miniature infirmary for her. Levianath had gone with Fiammetta and Darkrunner on their ship, and Julian had to admit that even after returning home to the orchard with his family, he felt alone without his friends. Levianath was across the sea, and Reece was inaccessible.

Nyela took the news of Lily pretty hard, and Julian felt guilty for not being there for her; he stayed with Reece, mostly, but whenever he'd get shooed out of the infirmary, he always found himself heading over to the orphanage to check on little Maverick, or to see if the baby had found a new family.

Nearly another week passed, and Julian finally began to force himself to realize that it was possible things may not change for a very long time, and he needed to pull his own weight here instead of moping around and bringing people down. He hated moping; it was so far out of his personality that it was starting to change him, and he could see it happening. Multiple times he'd been approached by friends or family asking him if he needed help, and he hated it. He hated expending their energy on himself; _he_ didn't need help. Reece needed help. This was about Reece, not him. He was finding it difficult to not be angry - not at anything in particular, just in general. He couldn't pinpoint his anger, but he surely felt it more often than not. It was only soothed when he was speaking in a one-way conversation to his comatose wife or the orphan Draenei. No one else in the orchard fully understood him, because he wouldn't let them. It wasn't their fault he wasn't happy. He didn't want to make them feel like it was.

Late one evening he was relaxing on the floor near her bed as one of the healers, Jotham, tended to her. Last Jotham had said, they were just on the edge of fixing this, that now it was just a matter of perseverance. But that had been two days ago.

Julian watched distractedly as the man bent over Reece and pressed his fingers into her temples, his eyes flicking shut and brows knitting in focus. This was a regular sight, and Julian barely even paid attention.

But then, Jotham's eyes darted open, and he blinked a couple times. "Something's changed," he said quietly, barely moving his mouth with the words, and a sudden flash of hope rippled into his features. He situated his hands again at her temples and tried his spell, and this time, his mouth fell open just barely, but he kept the spell going.

Julian sat up a little straighter, eyes widening, heart beginning to quicken.

"It's working," Jotham said quietly, lids remaining shut.

Julian stood, drawing closer, but gave them their space. He didn't want to blunder anything, not now, not with this excitement coursing through him.

In the healer's left hand, where his index and middle fingers were pressed to Reece's temple, there began to gather a tiny ethereal thread of pure silver light, and in his left hand gathered fel green. Slowly, carefully, the man removed his hands, and Julian saw the magic feeding into them. Julian felt his lips part, heart thudding as he watched Reece actually form an expression on her face. He saw her brows tighten, her nose scrunch just a little, tugging at her freckles.

He was frozen in place as he watched Jotham step away, all the magic now fading. His eyes darted to Jotham, who was watching Reece, and he looked back at her.

She inhaled a deep breath, calmly. Julian felt time finally start again when her sweet warm eyes captured his.


	28. Dawn

**THIS IS SUCH A FLUFFY CHAPTER AHHH. ****Perhaps it has something to do with my unbreakably-fantastic mood this past week. Real-life good news really tends to fuel happy fluffy writing bwahaha.**

**Responses: **

**R. Moonstalker: Hah! Your review could be applied to this chapter as well. Reece is back, draenei minions, and sappy Julian. xD **

**Zarabethe: Ooooo, you're right on point there. In both epilogues, we'll be addressing the whole aging difference thing. I've been thinking about that a lot, actually. Julian being who he is will eventually possibly out-live everyone but Maverick and that's so freaking sad aha. **

**psalty: *joins in chant* :) And maybe he is! Mwahaha.**

**Kintaraheart: Oh yes, you've got it! Moms _are_ like that. ;)**

**Den of Meade: Levi has taken a complete (almost) one-eighty turn from his first chapter haha. Kickass girls can do that. :) As for your second review: yeah there's a lot of aging differences here... but Fia is actually half troll half night elf, and since trolls' life spans are actually typically shorter than those of humans, I'm just going to go with the idea that her life span and Levi's actually end up being almost identical. Aaand as for Reece and Julian, we'll get more on that with epilogues! Also, I think we should start calling Julian half-n-half because I can't stop snickering at that.**

**Jay: We have one more Lily appearance in this story that'll hopefully clear up the energy transfer thing. Or at least explain her half of it...Ahah. **

**Suneeku: Nah don't worry! I updated them both in one day, it was easy to miss! And she's still good ol' Reece, with a twist. :P**

**Ophie: Ah, I adore him too. :) I love writing his appearances. And thanks! Your senses are on point!**

* * *

**So, this is actually the final chapter of the story, but I have two epilogues planned. Gird your loins.**

* * *

"Reece? Are you…" Julian trailed off as he watched her face transform from dazed confusion to a heartening smile that stretched from cheek to cheek, and he rejoiced in the sight. He had half a mind to start crying. He'd missed this smile so much he only now realized how extensively it'd ruined him to live without it.

"Hi," she smiled, her voice void of any notion toward having been comatose for weeks, and she sat up easily.

Julian sent a slightly panicked glance at the healer, but the man did not seem alarmed by her extremely abrupt recovery. He looked back at her and blinked a few times, finally letting a smile start to spread across his face, though it was tentative, guarded.

His voice was weaker than hers. "Do you feel okay?" he asked her carefully; he wanted to scoop her up and shower her in adoration, but he was afraid to even touch her. Her freckled grin that followed his question nearly brought him to ruin, though. His hands twitched at his sides, a nerve in his neck pulsing as he fought to restrain himself when her voice sounded again.

"I'm more than okay," she breathed, as if she'd been stuck in some sort of nightmare and had woken up in heaven. With only scarce warning she threw her arms around him, crushing him in a monumental hug that stunned him, and as soon as he recovered he let out thrilled laughter and hugged her back, lifting her up off of her bed and into his arms. He was careful with her, unsure if she was still hurt anywhere, but still he pulled her into his arms tightly, one arm looped under her and one behind her. Her legs curled at his waist as she wrapped her arms behind his neck, and the shackles of his stress fell away as she peppered him with kisses. She held nothing back. She wasn't hurting; the healers had done their job. Julian had painfully missed the way her bangs would tickle his nose, how he could always feel her unfettered smile against his.

He vaguely heard the healer's laughter at their enthusiasm. Finally, still holding her up against him, he managed to speak, but didn't even so much as pull his face away from hers.

"Reece, there's a lot you missed-"

She interrupted him simply by kissing him again, which he certainly didn't mind one bit, so he decided not to get into the heavy stuff just yet. She was back, and she'd been back for all of forty-five seconds; he didn't need to ruin it all with bad news, not this soon.

But when she finally took a breath, she shook her head at him. "I didn't miss a thing."

He blinked a few times, setting her down on her bed and relaxing down beside her, one arm still remaining looped behind her. "Yes, you did. You missed a ton, actually. You were out for weeks."

She shook her head again. "No, I could hear what was going on around me most of the time. I really didn't miss anything, Julian."

Julian chewed the inside of his cheek, putting aside his surprise at this for the time being. "Then...you know about-"

"I didn't miss a thing," she repeated a little more seriously, her eyes holding his intently. For a second he noticed that something was different in those eyes, whether it be in the actual appearance of them or possibly what they were saying to him just by staring. Something had changed in her, like it had in him.

He took in a deep breath, nodding, and let his eyes glance down. He felt her hand fall on his leg, squeezing once for reassurance. He still felt a bit in a daze, unsure of whether this was real or not, that she was talking to him, touching him. Minutes earlier, he'd been hopeless.

"You kept me from going crazy," she said, a smile in her tone. "I was all by myself with no way to interact with anyone, but you stayed with me and kept me informed on everything. I'd have been so bored."

Julian frowned slightly. The action seemed to catch her off-guard, and he spoke quietly. "I shouldn't have left you alone at all."

Her response included a snort, which forced his own offbeat smile into place as he glanced back up at her.

"You're so freaking dreamy, Julian," she snickered. "But seriously, don't do that to yourself. I'm alright now, yeah? No regrets."

Julian was still finding it hard to believe she was taking this all in stride, and part of him didn't like it, as much as he wanted to be happy that she was back. He sort of selfishly hoped she wasn't _that_ unaffected by it all. He needed to talk about everything that happened. They both needed to. Maybe not right now, but eventually. But something in him told him she was putting up a strong front for him, but he didn't want that either. As much as he wanted to just move on and be happy like they both preferred to do, he knew it would feel hollow. He still hurt. She was back, and it was so exponentially better, but he still had wounds that needed salve, and he couldn't heal them on his own.

He needed her.

By now the healer, Jotham, had given them their space, and they found themselves alone. Reece caught Julian's troubled, frowning expression and tightened her brow, tossed her shaggy hair aside, and watched him. He attempted a smile, but even he could sense its tension.

"Julian..." she said, her voice surprisingly exposed.

His eyes held hers intensely, unable to mask the emotion behind them. She looked like she was trying to put the right words in order in her mind, because she inhaled deeply through her nose, and her thin, delicate lips moved while still closed. Finally she looked at him with her big brown eyes and spoke.

"Do you know what it's like to cry inside your mind?"

He tilted his head a degree, brows just barely curving in a hint of concern. "What?"

She gave a single wry laugh. "Crying, but not actually crying. It's like you can feel so much, but you have no way to get it out. So you try to scream in your head, but it doesn't do anything. You can feel that lump in your throat, but you can't move it or do a thing about it. You feel a horrid ache in your chest, but all you can do is try to...think it away. I had two weeks to do that, to be there all on my own and process...everything that happened. I couldn't tell where the day ended and sleep began, because it felt like one big, long nightmare, in which my body wouldn't respond to my head. But you know what the only thing was that helped me, that calmed me down when everything felt red-hot and raw and trapped? You. Sitting by my bed, holding my hand, crying, laughing, telling stories. You must feel like you went through it all alone, but I was there with you the entire time. I was there, feeling it all, by your side. I felt your pain just as strongly as my own. But we have each other now, and that's what matters most. You matter most. Everything else, like you've told me countless times these past two weeks, can be dealt with as long as we face it _together_. As long as we have each other, we will be all right."

Julian's eyes had begun to blur almost before she started speaking, and now, he felt two wet streaks down his cheeks. He choked back a sob with her final words and laid one hand at the side of her face, leaning in and pressing his mouth softly to hers. He didn't need to say anything now. She'd just confirmed everything he needed; she'd just promised him the one promise he sought, the promise that he was not going through this alone. Words were no longer necessary.

The kiss lingered for a moment, quiet and gentle, before she curled her hands into his shirt and crawled on top of him, the two desperately clinging to each other, unable to fully satisfy their need for one another. One of his hands braided itself slowly into her hair and the other wrapped around her and pulled her in tightly. Now that he had her, finally, he wasn't letting her go. Not yet, not now.

He wrapped both hands under her and lifted her up against him as he stood and somehow made his way up to his bedroom all the way from the healing ward, stopping here and there when his newly-recovered wife would kiss him so strongly he'd forget what he was doing. By the time they reached his room it was only a matter of his own willpower to set her down, to release her from his arms, but their separation lasted only long enough for him to bolt his door before scooping her back up and fervently shucking their clothing, working in heated kisses when at all possible.

Hands never straying, he lay her down softly into the bed and settled down to meet her.

* * *

A tickling sensation on his nose made his eyes flutter almost to the point of opening, but he just scrunched up his face for a second and then relaxed.

"Ju-lian," his name rode on a welcome, quiet, playful voice, and his mouth immediately pulled to a lazy smile. Only now did he register the pressure of someone sitting on his hips, and his hands slid up her legs on either side of him, resting his coarse palms on the soft skin of her thighs. His smile widened as he felt her nose tickle his again, this time a recognizable feeling, and he shifted himself just enough so she, sitting on him, wobbled forward, and he caught her lips in his own. He curled one arm up around her and caught her coarse giggle that warmed his whole heart while their smiles merged as one.

The two had let themselves doze off; or, at least, he was pretty sure she had as well. He definitely had, but that wasn't much of a surprise. He tended to snooze after every time. He swore he couldn't help it, not to mention these past weeks had been the longest weeks of his life, and only now had he finally allowed himself to truly relax, in the arms of the one he loved more than anything.

"So, these are new," she commented as she pulled away, and his eyes went to her hand, which rested on his shoulder, fingers tracing carefully on the intense marbled scarring that snaked over his skin.

"Dragon fire," he said with a sideways smirk.

A brow of hers lifted sharply. "Right! I remember you mentioning it in your letter. I couldn't picture it, though. I guess you really can't until you see it. It's pretty freakin' awesome."

Julian barely heard what she was saying, honestly, as he lay there and watched her speak. He watched how she seemed to radiate with energy and life, how her bright eyes danced as she talked, how her skin practically glowed. He found himself caught up in the simple action of her breathing, how the late evening light from the window would catch her slender shoulders with each subtle breath, rising and falling. He felt overwhelmed by her, filled by a torrential, vibrant radiance that could only be described as love, but the word did such a feeling little credit.

In short he had no words for her. He could only wish to express to her somehow what he was feeling, but he didn't even know where to start.

She caught him staring at her with his peculiar, intense, rapturous expression, and a closed smile slowly slid over her face, dimpling her cheeks.

"What?" she asked humorously, and Julian let his own smile fall in place.

"You are my life," he sat up slightly, hoisting himself up onto his elbows, so he was closer to her. She didn't move from his lap, just brought their blankets up snugly around them both.

"Same," she smiled at him, mischief clinging to her expression, and she paused a second. "Oh, and you are, too."

The two melted into mirthful giggles, with her falling forward and letting her forehead thud against his collarbone as she laughed, both of them giddy in each other's presence. As soon as they calmed a little, her eyes gauged his as he spoke again.

"Really, you truly are," he gave a soft sigh, contentedly. "I was so lost without you, Reece. I couldn't function, not totally. And you know me, I always find some way to look on the bright side of things, always find some way to...well, to function. But somehow, somewhere, I lost the ability to do so without you. I couldn't even _grieve_ properly, let alone heal."

Her brows curved faintly at that, disappearing under her shaggy bangs, and she inhaled slowly though her nose before she talked.

"Julian, can we heal as a family? Would that be totally insane of me to ask right now?"

He tilted his head. "Hmm? Not insane, I'm just confus-"

"Maverick. I haven't even seen him yet, but I've already fallen for him. He's basically ours already."

Julian felt excitement suddenly course through him, and he scooted up a little further, one arm looping forward around Reece simply to keep her from falling off with his jerky movements. His eyes were full of hope and anticipation.

"Really? I mean, you really want to? _Can_ we?" he swallowed simply to force himself to quit blubbering.

"I dare anyone to try to stop us! C'mon!" she retorted with equal enthusiasm, bouncing off of him and grabbing random articles of clothing for them both, chucking Julian's at him with entertaining force, and he caught them as they flew right into his face and chest. She bounced around as she yanked some of his baggy pants on, and as soon as they were both haphazardly clothed, she spoke again.

"He's at the orphanage, yeah?"

"Yeah, but it's getting late, Reece," he laughed.

"That doesn't matter! Let's go!"

Before he even let her run out his door, Julian maneuvered his way in front of her and swept her up in a piggy-back-style form. Her laughter was his prize, and her hands looped down over his shoulders as he brought her in snug.

"Onward!" she exclaimed, pointing one finger down the hall toward the ramp.

The two tumbled down the ramp and out of the orchard so quickly they escaped the notice of everyone else.

* * *

_Levianath_

* * *

Arrival into Stormwind after the weeks on sea was a slow process, even once Darkrunner's _Incendiary_ had reached the docks. Levianath stood near the helm and watched as the deckhands all worked as one big machine to tie down all sails, anchor the ship in place, line it up with the docks, and set out a ramp. He observed Fiammetta and the captain down below discussing trades, with Fia holding that big book she tended to carry around whenever dealing with wares or money.

A cool wind swept from the north, tugging at his hair and bringing with it the scent of salt and rain and fresh earth. Rainfall had lasted a mere hour, but it'd made the floorboards wet and shiny, and the air was heavy, almost misty. The whole world seemed a bright greenish blue everywhere he looked. Bluer toward the sea, and greener upon land. Something about overcast, rainy days seemed to make the world look more colorful, somehow; it brought out every individual vibrant color and saturated it in life. One would think that was the sun's job, but no; the sun might make everything stand out intensely, but it never nurtured colors. Maybe that was merely his own opinion, with his sensitive half-elf eyes.

The cries of gulls overhead and the sounds of the docks were loud enough to distract him, so when his name was called, he didn't hear the first time.

"Levianath," Fiammetta said a little louder this time, and he glanced over to see her ascending the stairs to him. "Would you like to go to the orchard with me? We can see how Reece is faring."

"And Julian, for that matter," Levianath murmured as he followed after her. They wove past people in the docks, most eyes falling on Fiammetta and not leaving until she was far past them. It was the same everywhere they went, and the woman barely acknowledged it. She couldn't help her unique beauty, not to mention now her look had altered from pristine, symmetrical glamour to a grittier, rougher style. Her half-shaved trollish hair was swept back behind her ears, one of which now healed but was half its original length. She'd pierced that cropped ear generously, and the straight, thin scar on that side of her temple seemed to complete it all. Fiammetta was a complete bad-ass, and people couldn't help but stare at her. Levianath knew he couldn't.

As they reached the orchard and the shelter of the thick trees, she looped her hand into his, fingers weaving together. They first encountered a few elves they did not know, but Levianath saw Sarion Dawnstar, who saw him at the same time and approached. The man was holding one of his white-haired sons, who had grown a shocking amount in the time they'd been gone. Levianath wasn't one to call babies _cute_ very often, but this kid was adorable, with round cheeks and fluffy, thick hair and giant glowing eyes.

"Welcome back," Sarion said, his deep, rich voice worthy of envy. He regarded them both with a warm expression. "Here for Julian?"

Fiammetta opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly another person bolted up from around Sarion and tackled the woman in a hug, then started yanking on her arm.

"You guys made it here just in time!" Reece said excitedly, and Levianath's mouth fell open.

"Reece!" he blurted. "You're...okay!"

"Yes, I am, and I need Fiammetta right now! I've made a huge mistake!"

"What?!" Fiammetta let the girl pull her all the way back to the tree while Levianath and Sarion watched them go. Sarion began laughing, and Levianath excused himself to follow after Fia; his curiosity was far too intense to just ignore what'd just happened.

He reached the tree just as he saw them disappear up the ramp, and he ran up and followed them into Julian's room. The second he stepped into the door, the sight that met his eyes hit him like a sack of bricks, and he nearly fell over in a sudden explosion of laughter. He braced his hands on his knees, then found himself laughing so hard that his knees gave out and he had to slump down against Julian's bed, burying his face.

"We're getting re-married today," Julian's voice carried through Levianath's laughter, and he heard so much humor packed in the kid's sentence that his own hilarity was renewed full-force. His stomach started to become sore, and finally he turned his face back toward his friend, noting that Fiammetta too had to sit down from laughing.

The elegant gown Julian was wearing was far too tight, confining all the wrong places, and the thin shoulder straps were stretched almost to the point of breaking. The boy's own laughter was not helping save the fabric, as each time his chest quaked it seemed to stretch worse.

Reece threw her hands in the air, laughing as well. "I joked that he had to wear a dress like he promised, and then he did this!"

"Wh-who...whose dress is that?" Levianath choked out, still too weak to stand, and he braced one hand against his forehead.

"Nyela's. I'm afraid she might not be able to wear it anymore."

The laughter in the room intensified, and Reece reached out to grab at the dress, but Julian dodged her, jumping backward. He was surprisingly nimble in the confining outfit.

"Julian, if you don't take that off now, I'm making you wear it for real!" Reece barked through her laughter, and he stuck his tongue out at her and then proceeded to bolt out the door.

"HEY!" she shouted after him and sped off out the door, down the hall, down the ramp, and they could just barely hear Reece and Julian shouting playfully outside.

"I gotta see this," Levianath laughed, and Fiammetta followed him down.

They got outside just in time to see Julian sprinting off to the cooking fires, now followed by both Reece _and_ Nyela. The sides of the dress had split just enough for him to be able to really run, and both girls were scrambling to keep up with him. As Levianath jogged after them, he watched as Reece sped up and tackled Julian straight into the newly-rained-on forest floor, and Nyela gave a sound of humorous despair at seeing her dress absolutely ruined.

Those at the campfires had already turned their attention to Julian, and Levianath saw among them was the kid's family.

Reece's voice was out-of-breath as they both wrestled there on the ground, with Julian trying to squirm out of her grip and chortling uncontrollably.

"You've sealed your fate, Julian Silverpaw! You're getting married in this gown!"

"I don't care! I win either way!" he shouted, and somehow the two ended up standing.

"Win what?" she snorted.

He grinned at her, both of them peppered in wet, sticky leaves and smudges of mud here and there, and he reached out and pulled a twig from her scruffy hair. "You."

"Damn, that was good," Levianath murmured sideways to Fia, and she snickered.

"Dad!" Julian called his father over. "Can we do the thing now?" The kid actually bounced back and forth on his toes, as if he were preparing to race.

Lucian Silverpaw's laughter was resonant and seemed to lift the forest. The Druid really was in-tune with this place, more so than anyone else here. "As you wish," he chuckled as he approached the odd pair, still laughing at Julian's apparel.

"Wait!" Julian's red-haired mother called out as she approached, and Levianath quirked a brow at who she was holding; the baby Draenei from the slave camps was sitting happy in one arm. "You need the rest of your family, too," she said.

"Ready?" Lucian asked.

Levianath folded his arms, watching curiously. Was this some sort of marriage thing they were about to perform? He'd never seen elves marry.

Julian and Reece nodded, linking their hands together.

"Okay go," Reece ordered.

Lucian drew a spell into his hands; it was nearly invisible, but Levianath could feel the way the wind shifted directions, how the ground under his feet seemed to pull, and energy crackled in the air. Lucian's palms placed themselves above and below the pair's linked hands, and Levianath's eyes widened a little when he saw both Julian and Reece inhale sharply, and Reece's eyes flickered a golden, whitish shine where her pupils should be, an almost mixture between Julian's amber and the light of her own magic, or possibly of some other magic that Levianath knew she'd been infused with upon her resurrection.

Smiles spread across both of their cheeks, the two so suddenly and incredibly enraptured by one another that the looks on their faces caused Levianath to momentarily forget that they were dressed hilariously and covered in mud and leaves.

"Whoa," they both breathed out at the same time.

Reece grinned. "That was even better than the first."

Julian's hand fell blatantly against her heart, his mouth having fallen open. "Dude, feel this," he reached out and took her hand, planting it on his own chest. Levianath couldn't help but laugh to himself. They'd completely forgotten the rest of the world.

Her eyes widened, still slightly glowing, although the glow had faded to what was barely a glow, more of a glimmer, or a shimmer. "Whoa," she said again.

"And your eyes are glowing," Julian commented, and he finally returned to the rest of the world as he glanced over at his father. "Does that happen?"

"I've never performed this spell on a human, or seen it done. Apparently, it does happen."

"Cool," Julian grinned. Levianath blinked a few times, wondering what this glow meant. Judging by the two's reactions, they were linked somehow, and he wondered how far that link went. Julian was an elf; his life force was no doubt stronger than steel. Levianath was curious whether that force had become shared, and how much significance that might hold for their future.

Reece reached out then and relieved Norivana of the Draenei toddler, kissing him on the cheek repeatedly until he started giggling.

"Dad's in a dress, Mav," Reece pointed at Julian. "Don't ever forget this moment."

The toddler reached out for Julian, and Reece brought him closer until he could grab onto the neckline of the gown. His small hand curled around the fabric, and he let out a tiny, happy coo, oblivious to why this was so funny. His other hand reached up and batted at Julian's chin, and Julian laughed happily. Other tribe members began to flood in and congratulate the happy couple.

Levianath took a moment to process that Julian and Reece had adopted the baby, and he glanced over at Fiammetta in surprise, only to see the same look of surprise on her face. Her eyes met his, and she smiled that smile that seemed to brighten his world.

He smiled back, looped a hand around her waist, and leaned in, stealing a sweet, quiet kiss. All that existed in that moment was them, and with her, for the first time in forever, he felt he was truly, finally home.


	29. Epilogue: Offspring

**Thanks all for being so patient. :) **

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**Review Responses:**

**Jay: Not yet, but I'm definitely putting it on my to-do list, for sure. :)**

**Zarabethe: Ahaha, YES. I was hoping for that reaction! And pfft I HAD to mention the letter, of course. :D That picture of them is in the works x)**

**Raftina: Ohhh now I will, too, every time. Like a big white fluffy kitten or something. xD **

**Suneeku: I'm glad you liked it! Thank you!**

**Ophianara: Oh yes, it was definitely a fast-paced chapter! And thanks!**

**Chelinka: LOL diabetes from fluff xD **

**Kintaraheart: Perfect sum-up, not to mention entertaining to boot. And nooooo don't explode your head D: **

**R. Moonstalker: Ha! That dragon's gonna have his ending, but it'll be complicated and not in this story LOL.**

**Den of Meade: Half-n-half Julian xD Still like it. **

**Willowstar: They're out there! The good ones are out there! I promise! They're just super-duper rare is all... hahaha.**

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**Anyway, second-to-last chapter up and ready!**

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"I don't remember this being here," Fiammetta motioned toward a quaint, half-height wooden fence that lined the dirt trail upon which she and Levianath leisurely strolled, hands linked together. The forest around them seemed to glitter, the way the sunlight from above shone through the foliage and speckled the rich green ferns and tall seeding grass in gold. Through consecutive years Levianath had come to truly enjoy Elwynn in late summer, when the trees were heavy with leaves and the whole world painted itself green, with the exception of heavy flowers weaving around each tree, their leafy vines snaking up the sides and dressing each trunk in various colors.

"Last we were here was before Winter Veil," Levianath responded. "Julian had mentioned wanting to build a more visible path. I suppose this is what he meant."

Fiammetta took a deep, contented breath, seemingly moving on to a new subject. "I liked the apartment in the Mage District."

"Me, too," he hummed calmly. "It is spacious."

"It has the potential for two extra rooms, if you turn that office-style one into a small bedroom, or something."

Levianath let a tiny smile ghost across his lips. "Yes."

"I think we should get it. Tomorrow."

He finally chuckled. "What's the rush?"

"I'm…just…" she shrugged then, and trailed off, giving a smirk of her own and sighing. The action seemed defeated. "Excited, I guess."

His hand squeezed hers affectionately, and he tugged her in, pausing for a moment there in the forest. She turned to face him, drawn in quite close now. He gave her a gentle yet somewhat playful smile, staring straight ahead into her electrifying blue eyes.

"If it is what you want, we can finalize tomorrow."

"Is it what _you_ want?"

"Hey, I follow you, remember?" he said warmly. "Where you go, I go, and I'm _happy_ to be there. We could live in an iron cell and I'd be alright."

Fiammetta let out a simple laugh and nodded in acceptance as she started walking again. "Iron cell it is, then."

Her hand linked into his as he fell back into step beside her. He knew she'd known for years that he always felt a pull to settle down in one spot, as much as he loved living and working on his father's ship. He liked to have something of his own, an anchor, and seeing as their friends all lived in or near Stormwind, he and Fia had chosen to finally move away from the sailing business and into the city. She was even more ready for it than he was, apparently, and that both pleased and surprised him.

They'd spent all morning inspecting different places, and honestly, Levianath would be happy with any of them. He was not a picky man; it was up to her, really. And it seemed she'd made her choice. He was glad it'd been this easy, though felt a little shocked she wanted it so soon. He thought they'd move in after months, or possibly a year. No complaints from him.

The couple rounded a bend in the pathway and finally came into view of a tall, two-story farm house shaded by thick oak trees. Levianath knocked twice and stepped back, hands finding their way into his pockets.

The door swung open, and both Levi and Fia arched their brows at the one who answered.

"Oh, hi!" Maverick greeted them, reaching up and brushing his wild black curls from where they fell over his head crest. He stepped backward, making way for them to enter. "Mom and dad are in the living room."

Levianath reached out and messed up the boy's curls right as he'd gotten them under control. "You've shot up like a sprout. How old are you now, six?" He grinned impishly as Maverick's face scrunched up.

"I'm _ten_!" the kid said indignantly, his face only warming when Fiammetta bent down to give him a big welcoming hug.

"You sure?" Levianath questioned as they walked through the hallway, "I'm pretty positive you are six."

He felt a mild smack against his arm from Fiammetta, and he snickered as they walked into the living room. Almost as soon as Levianath had stepped in, he was nearly tackled to the ground by an army of small half-human children, and he started to wrestle them off, laughing the whole time as they shouted and squealed, "Uncle Levi!" in excitement.

He finally had to collapse onto the couch, giving up as one of the smallest of what looked like eight children total began to crawl up one arm, using his long hair as a means of pulling herself up. The other few older kids became interested in what Fiammetta had brought them, which was a small bag of individual toys for each one. She could tell them all apart perfectly, but Levianath had desperate trouble, and sometimes couldn't even remember how many there were these days. Seven? Eight?

He felt the couch shift as Julian plopped down beside him. "Hey, man!"

Levianath smiled back in response. Julian looked well; his young, boyish features had remained all these years, but his chin was peppered in red stubble, and he'd physically filled out into a clone of Lucian Silverpaw.

"Julian, you two are creating an army, you know that?" Levianath warned, still laughing as the brown-haired, brown-eyed toddler on his shoulder slipped and nearly tumbled off onto the floor, if not for both him and Julian grabbing her at the same time.

"Magdalena, run to mommy," Julian coaxed, setting her on the floor, and Levianath couldn't help but smile as she stumbled forward and then did as her dad asked, her tiny fountain-like pigtails bobbing on top of her head with each step. Levianath's eyes fell on Reece and Fiammetta, and he let out a breath of surprise when he saw that Reece's stomach under her shirt was round. Fiammetta was now holding a white-haired toddler, the youngest, and Reece looked equally as excited about the toys as her children as she sorted them out. She'd chopped her hair since last he saw her, and with it this short he got flashbacks from years ago, when he'd first known her. Although, back then, she wasn't wearing maternity clothing.

"Another?" Levianath's voice raised an octave, and he looked at Julian in shock.

Julian grinned warmly, and Levianath groaned.

"Were there this many last time I was here?!" he asked.

"It was only Winter Veil, Levianath," Julian chuckled back.

"I feel like the number has doubled. Or maybe they all merely got bigger."

Julian only continued to laugh.

"Do you two...ever...you know, stop?" the half-elf kept his voice low and humorous.

Julian shrugged. "Well, you know, gotta feed the kids now and then and that requires a break." The joking twinkle in his eye made Levianath smack a hand to his forehead, unable to quell the sudden snort of laughter.

"Sorry I asked," he mumbled teasingly.

Maverick had just sat down with them as he said that, and the boy gave him a curious look.

"Sorry you asked what?"

Levianath peered at the Draenei. "Sorry I asked why you ask so many questions," he teased, and then tilted his head at him. "So which one are you again? Salty, Sea-Legs, or Swab?"

He heard Julian bubble into childish laughter.

The Draenei rolled his eyes, but before he could respond, Levianath spoke again.

"Ah, I'm just kidding," he snickered, and then tilted his head. "Mitchell?"

"_No_," Maverick said slowly, clearly annoyed but still patient, feeding right in to Levi's teasing. "_That_ is Mitchell," he pointed at the tallest shaggy-haired brunette boy by Fiammetta. "I'm Maverick."

Levianath nodded quietly, and then pointed at the next-oldest, a fair-haired girl with slightly-pointed ears and long, skinny limbs. "And Aquilia," he said, and Maverick nodded.

"Yes."

Levianath pointed at a boy with Julian's features, golden eyes and long red hair. "Mini-Julian."

"_Caspian_," Maverick corrected.

He resisted a grin of his own when he heard Julian snickering beside him and moved on to the next, a smaller boy with light brown hair. "I thought that one was Caspian."

"Gabriel," the Draenei sighed.

Levianath had to bite his mouth for a second, pretending he was in thought but in reality doing his best not to smile. He pointed at a little one he knew as Maeve. "And...M-...Molly?"

"Close! Maeve."

"That one is Mini-Reece," Levianath pointed to Magdalena.

_"Maggie,_ and then that's Fay," Maverick pointed at the white-haired toddler. He'd said it as if this were physically paining him to endure, and at this point the boy gave a hopeless sigh, shook his head to himself, stood up, and wandered off to his siblings.

Levianath then pointed at Reece's stomach. "And what about number nine?"

Julian smiled. "Either Felicity or Kai, depending on gender."

"Your healers can't tell?"

"They can, but we like the mystery."

"Huh," Levianath shrugged. He was about to speak more, but the three oldest ran over to him and started pulling him off the couch by his hands.

"Uncle Levi, come fishing with us!" Aquilia begged. "It's started sprinkling outside."

"You can use my pole," Maverick promised him. "I'll use Dad's."

"I wanted to use Dad's," Aquilia frowned.

"I called it earlier. Like, way earlier, before you even wanted to go fishing," Mitchell folded his arms.

"If nobody heard you, it doesn't coun-"

Julian butted in, leaning forward. "How about Dad uses Dad's, you all use your own, and Levianath uses Mom's? Yeah? Good?" He tickled Mitchell for good measure, and the boy actually erupted into giggles as his dad scooped him up and turned him entirely upside down until his hair hung down toward the ground as he laughed. Levianath knew that boy to be somewhat serious and cantankerous, but of course he couldn't resist tickling. The other children jumped to Mitchell's aid, piling onto their father and wrestling him onto the couch.

"Reece!" Julian fake-yelped in hysteria, "Reece, they've got me! Save me! I'm doomed!"

Levianath looked over in Reece's direction, but his attention was immediately stolen by the white-haired tot who'd wandered over to him, carrying her new toy. She was the only child out of them all, save for maybe Caspian, who appeared to have gotten mostly elf genes. Her ears were already elongated and slender, and her soft hair was a pure, clean white. Her skin was as pale as Julian's, and her eyes shone amber.

She had a little wooden train car in her hands with working wheels, and she held it up toward him completely silently. She looked like she was barely old enough to walk and was still unsure of herself, as she'd braced herself against the couch and one of his knees, and Levianath couldn't help but let a soft smile cover his face.

"Hello," Levianath smiled as he accepted the train car, speaking through the shouting going on beside them. "Thank you." He inspected it; it was painted bright red and had yellow accents, and the little wheels were perfectly-crafted and functional. "Oh, man, I'd have loved one of these at your age. How old are you now, Fay?"

Her glowing golden eyes widened a tad, and she held up her tiny chubby thumb and index finger, remaining silent as she chewed her lips.

"Two? You're two?!" he exclaimed in excitement, handing the car back. "You're so grown up!"

She finally let a smile pull at her face and took the toy from his hand again. Maverick, who'd been wrestling Julian with his siblings, broke away from the fun, tumbled over, and scooped up Fay in his arms. The Draenei then began to ballroom-style waltz the two of them around the living room as the toddler burst into high-pitched laughter in his arms, her train car clattering to the ground, forgotten.

Levianath began laughing at the chaos in the room, and suddenly Mitchell appeared in front of him and grabbed his wrist, pulling him from the couch.

"I still have bait left over from yesterday," Mitchell announced as Julian and Aquilia stood, and finally Levianath smirked and acquiesced, letting them drag him out the door.

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By the time night rolled around and the children were in bed, Levianath was about ready to drop where he sat. The day had literally been non-stop, save for dinner, and even that had been exciting. They'd gotten a little bit of quiet time when the little ones had been napping, but still the older children always had something to keep them busy, whether it was their schooling lessons or some sort of outrageous make-believe game.

Now, the four adults sat around the small wooden kitchen table, one single lamp lit, and Levianath enjoyed the calm quietness of the forest farmhouse at night.

Levianath leaned one elbow against the table and regarded Julian and Reece humorously.

"Who'da guessed that you two would eventually move out into Elwynn as farmers?"

Fiammetta raised her hand jokingly. "Saw it coming the moment they adopted Maverick."

"Hey, we still travel and adventure, but we do it with an entire team," Julian put in. "Non-stop fun."

Reece smirked. "And now that you and Levi are moving into the city; we can recruit you to babysit all the time! That can include tending sheep and chickens."

"Nope," Levianath leaned back and brushed his hands together. "Pass."

"You still afraid of kids?" Julian teased him, reaching out and playfully nudging his arm.

"No, no, they're not as terrifying as you think I think they are," Levianath chuckled. "But shepherding? No way."

Fiammetta snickered, sympathetically patting him on the back. "He's getting better. No more waking up in the middle of the night in cold sweats muttering, 'Kids! So many kids! No escape!'" Her voice had raised an octave, saying the last part with hysteria.

"Yeah, right," Levianath snorted sarcastically in a chuckle. "After everything this Warlock has seen, it's still children in the nightmares."

"Don't tell Mitchell that, or he'll milk it," Reece giggled, taking a sip of apple-infused water leftover from dinner.

"Yeah, by standing beside your bed in the middle of the night," Julian added in. "Might even call you 'Dad' for extra scare."

Levianath rolled his eyes. "For the record, I never actually said I was afraid of children, or being a father. You three invented it in your heads, and it snowballed."

"So…" Reece began slowly, "you and Fia should totally make babies, then. They would be the most epic of hybrids."

"Troll, night elf, blood elf, and human," Julian nodded. "I don't know if I've heard of anything like that."

Levianath laughed, drinking his own water and glancing over at Fia, but she too was simply smirking to herself. He set down his glass.

"Eh, babies don't do so well on pirate ships, I'll wager," he said.

"But you are settling down," Reece argued. "No more ship."

"Well, yeah," Levianath trailed off, looking at his drink for a second before sipping again.

Julian began to snicker at Levianath's expression. "If nothing else, you are way behind. We're on number nine. Gotta catch up."

"Right," Levianath laughed, glancing down at the watch on his wrist. He stretched his arms wide, and then looked at Fiammetta. "We should probably get going. Head out too late, and the walk through Stormwind gets dangerous."

Fiammetta nodded in agreement, and the group exchanged farewells.

As Levianath and Fiammetta walked back through the woods to the main road, Fiammetta let out a calm sigh.

"That was nice," she smiled as they walked. "Reece looks amazing. She's due in two months."

Levianath smiled, too, nodding once.

They walked along in silence for a good while, enjoying the nighttime, and finally Levianath let out a comfortable sigh.

"So, maybe all of that wouldn't be so bad," he murmured, and she turned her head to look at him as they walked. He heard her begin to laugh.

"You really think so?"

"Yes."

"All of what, a family? Children?" she clarified.

"Yes."

"Well I'm relieved you said that," she said simply.

He waited a moment to speak, trying to understand what she meant. "How come?"

A few seconds passed.

"Let's just say there's a reason I wanted that extra bedroom, and we'll surely be needing it soon enough."

Levianath blinked a couple times, processing, and then stopped dead in his tracks as she kept walking.

"Fia?"

"Hmm?" she kept walking. He heard humor in the way she'd innocently hummed.

"Fiammetta," he said again.

"Yes?" she finally stopped and turned on the road.

"What does that mean?"

He knew she could hear the uncertainty lacing his voice, and her expression softened as she walked to him, stopping in front of him.

"It means we need to settle down sooner rather than later. It means we're on a time limit."

"A time limit for what?" he asked, letting a hint of worried excitement rise in his tone.

She took his hand in hers and pulled him to walk beside her. "We've got until late spring before you're a father."

He stopped walking again, hand tightening so she couldn't escape this time, and pulled her to face him.

"You're serious?" he asked quietly, almost a whisper. He didn't feel shocked now, so much as eager. He didn't expect to feel this way if ever this situation came. Of course, he had all sorts of worries and anxiety about what was coming, but it wasn't a negative feeling.

"I am very serious," she responded with a smile, visible only under the moonlight.

His heart fluttered, and with nothing else to say, he reached a hand up and cupped it on her face, leaned in, and kissed her softly, his eyes falling shut as he froze time. The trees around them whispered in the breeze, and Levianath stole that silent, sweet moment to express himself to the woman he loved without words.

He pulled away, smiling at her, and began walking again along the cobblestone road. "Mage District apartment it is."


	30. Epilogue: Conclusion

**Final epilogue here! :) **

**Review Responses:**

**Psalty: We'll need an aviary! :P**

**Den of Meade: Bwahaha, that's entirely right. I come from a brood of only six, and my parents still sometimes switch us around. x) Also thank you for that sudden laugh at the mental image of Levi going all vampire-versus-sunlight in the Cathedral district.**

**Suneeku: Haha! Yes she is, it's ridiculous!**

**Willowstar 157: Weeellll, this is the last chapter, so hopefully your sanity remains afterward... Ahaha xD**

**Zarabethe: Oh MAN, I think any litter over four starts to get really crazy, especially that close in age! I don't know how you keep the energy lol. And...TWINNSSS! *excited shrieking***

**The Corrupted Typer: Hey there! Welcome back! :) As far as lifespans go, I think the offspring of elf and human would probably all sort of end up with the same average span, somewhere halfway in between the two regardless of individual phenotypes. And regarding Reece's lifespan, it hasn't been explained in this story, but it will be in the following one, which is on its way. Basically, elves live _way_ longer than humans, and it's inescapable. :S **

**Darkblight: Yay! Thank you so much, and yessss, no main characters dead :D Also, hiiiiiiiiiii to you tooooo**

**Kintaraheart: Bwahaha well fine, suit yourself! xD Head exploding is a messy ordeal!**

**Jay: Ha! So essentially, what I should do is just update like a maniac to keep the memory fresh! :D Deal!**

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**Anyway, we've made it to the end. :) **

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"Silverpaw?"

"Yes. Have you heard of them?"

"No, tell me," the man drummed his fingers against the side table upon which he sat, staring at the young woman before him. She made a face of discomfort, and he sighed. "Lily, I understand you feel unwell, but do concentrate, please."

She swallowed painfully and craned her head toward him. "I'm doing my best, Duncan."

He cocked one brow, "What did we decide about that?"

"Sorry—Alistair," she corrected herself on his alias, which he'd updated upon being recognized by the Silverpaws. Duncan was of the past.

He softened his expression a degree and leaned forward, tucking her silky blue hair behind one ear. "Now, I want to hear everything you know."

She told him. He listened intently as she recalled the story of Lucian Silverpaw and Norivana Sunstepper, what little she knew of their past, what'd been immortalized through legend, and their connection to her. She told him of the pair's adult offspring, Nyela and Julian, the latter of whom he'd met just a week earlier at the now-destroyed slave camp.

Julian Silverpaw, the boy who'd ruined him.

Alistair's eyes darkened. Lily seemed oblivious to his animosity as he remembered how she'd tried to flee with the Silverpaw boy. She'd broken his trust, and though he had not disciplined such a betrayal, his opinion of her had shattered. His kindness toward her as she slowly recovered from the Warlock's failed soul-transfer was entirely self-serving, and nothing more. She was far easier to pull information from when she felt secure, and this week had been frustrating enough as it was.

After he'd grabbed her and abandoned his camp, he'd flown for hours westward until they came upon a human outpost in Desolace. He'd reduced himself to his human form and limped in with her in his arms, posing as a broken, ambushed couple. His head injury, plus her condition, had received immediate, unquestioning aid from available helpers. The outpost was shoddy yet functional, and he'd felt more than lucky to have not one, but two healers in the fort who could mend her, not to mention an inn capable of keeping them the entire week.

Lily, upon their arrival, had been in a pitiful state of near-delirium—partially due to the controlling charm he'd placed on her in Tanaris, but mostly due to what'd happened between her, a warlock, and a demon, which resulted in her life energy being torn in half and her being left with a single piece. She'd explained that encounter to him post-recovery, and he was still unclear as to what exactly had happened. Her recall was fuzzy, at best, and his experience with demons only stretched a couple days now that he'd started studying.

However, she had, in her confused, vulnerable state, given him a collection of names. Names, which he'd stored in the back of his mind to be retrieved as necessary. The past year had been spent doing nothing but satisfying his own macabre curiosity of what it might be like to run a camp like the one he had, but now he had an actual goal. He had a purpose, and he had virtually all the time in the world to slowly, surely whittle away at those who'd crossed him until they were raw and bleeding...as it were.

The man twirled an vacant soulstone between his fingers like one might a coin, the dark gem completely void and absorbing all light that hit it. He tilted his head to the side, standing up off of the small table by Lily's bed and slowly walking to her window with deliberate, crisp steps.

"Lily flower," he beckoned her to stand by holding an arm out toward her. He peered out the paneless window into the setting sun, feeling the thick orange rays warm his skin.

"Dunc—Alistair," she said quietly, "I don't feel well enough to stand."

"You can," he assured her without turning his head. "Come. The pain will not last, and your healers do want you active soon."

His light grey eyes flickered when he heard her bare feet against the floor, and he looked toward her finally, eyes resting on her graceful face.

"You have helped me a great deal," he purred, eyes narrowing as he traced a finger along her jaw.

"How?"

A single twitch at one corner of his mouth. "I needed the identities of those who ruined our home. Justice must be served, Lily."

"Justice? You're not going to hurt them, are you?" she asked in concern.

He opened his mouth, inhaling once and shaking his head consolingly. "No, no," he said softly, his finger finally ending just under that unruly lock of hair, which he tucked behind her ear again, hand remaining in place. "Of course not. That would indicate a job only half-done." He kept his tone purposefully sweet, and he caught her confusion.

"What?"

He let a smile spread across his lips, dark and calculating. "I'm not going to hurt your friends, Lily flower..." he took her face in his hands and craned in, pressing his lips to hers in an intense, deep kiss. He refused to relent until she responded to him, until she gave into the kiss and relaxed entirely.

He pulled away, let his eyes flick between hers, and tilted his head to the side. His voice was a calm hum.

"I'm going to destroy them."

With a sudden, violent jerk of his arms, he snapped her neck.

It wasn't an easy feat by any means, and he much rather would have preferred another manner of disposal, but this was the quietest and quickest. She was delicate, especially when relaxed, and his arms and shoulders held a greater fortitude than her spine.

The rest of her body tried to follow the twist, but he caught her before she fell, for the last time brushing her blue hair from her expressionless, absent face. Gently, he lay her back into bed, closing her lids and pulling her blanket up so it appeared she was merely asleep.

Alistair fiddled with the void stone still in his fingers. He studied the girl before him for a few quiet, thoughtful seconds, before he returned to the window. With two fingers, he held the piece up in the sunlight, peering into it. It was black as ever, no light feeding through the hard texture.

Then, a flicker in the very center, faint but sure, caught his eye. He smiled freely. He'd secured half her soul.

Now, all he sought was the rest.

* * *

**A/N:**

**I have another story in the making that will follow both this and _Reawakening_, but I've got some tweaking to do before I publish it. I may put the first chapter up soon, depending on free time. It'll bring back some past characters, but it's different from all my other ones in many ways. We'll see how it goes. **

**Thanks all for reading!**


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